A few wisps of lingering sunset struggled to pierce through the gloom of the Ghost Buddha Realm.
When they drifted past the Sword Sea and fell upon the boundless white snow, the mulberry and elm trees blanketing the mountains were steeped in desolation as well.
"Rustle..."
The wind still howled, and the snow still whispered.
The Sword Ancestor was gone. Gu, Desolation, and Tear had been taken away too.
Looking up, only two solemn figures remained in the void, their auras as bleak as the winter cold.
The sky was like an inverted bowl. It sheltered the countless living beings within, yet also concealed the scenery beyond its rim.
And so, everything became unknown.
Humans were spiritual creatures, born with an instinctive foreboding of danger.
Even though they had no idea what the overall situation was now, when everyone around the mountain looked again at the two ancient sword cultivators in the void—despite neither of them turning nor blinking—a chill crawled up their backs. Unconsciously, they retreated several steps, clearing out a vast stretch of battlefield.
Matchmaker clutched Golden Apricot, a sense of discomfort rising within her.
Frowning, she murmured to herself and to the tens of millions of apricots on the preaching screen, "I have a feeling... the mountain rain is already upon us..."
Buzz! The words had barely left her lips.
The Void Sword Sea shuddered, then erupted in a roaring tremor. Over a hundred thousand swords spread to either side in the shape of wings.
Ba Zunan slowly emerged from the blank current of swords. The gravity on his face gradually faded into calmness, before finally turning into a long sigh. "The splendor of old is no more; rouge and flesh are but skeleton bones."
"Brother Hua, I overestimated the Sword Ancestor, and I overestimated this Famous