White Robes arrived one after another.
Everyone had thought the battle was already over.
Yet at this final juncture, the Eighth Sword Immortal had turned back for a surprise strike.
He had even made a bold declaration...
"Pluck every osmanthus flower across the mountain?"
The crowd stirred restlessly.
If, when he had first emerged from White Cavern, the Eighth Sword Immortal's every action had made people feel from the bottom of their hearts as though he had become a different person—his conduct and style no longer as wild and unrestrained as before—
Then, the moment those words came out, everyone felt as though they had returned to that glorious age.
The Eighth Sword Immortal who had, in the battle for the Ten Seat Holders, crushed the heirs of every peak power on the continent and swept aside all before him with his strength alone seemed...
To have returned? "Are you threatening me?"
Unlike everyone else—
Gou Wuyue stared angrily at the dead branch in Ba Zunan's hand and spoke coldly.
No matter how much the others reminisced about the past—
He knew that the man before him was no longer the man he had once been.
Bound by the Martial-Sealing Talisman...
Two fingers severed...
"Someone who cannot even hold a sword—what right do you have to utter such arrogant words again?" Gou Wuyue gripped his famed sword tightly, his sword intent soaring.
The White Robes retreated one after another, knowing that the battle between them was likely unavoidable.
"Threatening? Arrogant?"
Ba Zunan's expression remained indifferent. "I never shoot without a target, nor do I make empty boasts. If I say I'll kill, then I'll kill. If I say I'll act, then I'll act!"
As he spoke, he stepped forward. Begonia blossoms bloomed beneath his feet.
Eight fingers, one dead branch,