A Sword Cleaves the Realm

"Beast, die!"

Hun Yingkong's eyes instantly reddened, and he slammed down with his palm.

This strike contained eighty percent of his strength, showing just how badly he wanted Hua Qiang dead.

"Fuck! Old man, you have no martial virtue!"

"Fuck martial virtue! You and I are sworn enemies who will not rest until one of us is dead. Die!"

Consumed by rage, Hun Yingkong increased his output of power.

A massive hand wreathed in black mist, with countless ghostly shadows rising and sinking within it, appeared in the air.

The instant the hand emerged, space continuously collapsed, opening Void Rifts one after another. Countless black substances shot out from those rifts, making one's hair stand on end.

Hua Qiang felt the entire space around him become sealed off. Then a force as heavy as ten thousand jun descended upon him, crushing his bones until they ached.

Damn it, he really wanted his life!

Without another word, the Wudao Sword appeared in his hand. He swung it viciously at the giant hand in the sky.

Ghost Slaying Style

The Wudao Sword hummed and trembled, its blade erupting with dazzling golden light.

Spiritual energy surged madly around Hua Qiang, pouring into the sword like a tidal wave.

A massive golden sword aura tore through the air. Carrying the momentum of splitting heaven and earth, it charged toward the black hand covered in countless ghostly shadows.

Black mist and golden light collided explosively in midair. In an instant, the space that had just healed became like shattered glass again, with countless cracks spreading wildly.

The myriad resentful souls within the hand Hun Yingkong had condensed let out shrill screams. Suppressed by the Wudao Sword, the ghostly shadows began to twist and disperse.

Yet the hand's power remained tyrannical, firmly suppressing Hua Qiang's sword