The Xuanba Sword Sect, this colossal entity that had stood for millions of years.
At this moment, it had suffered an unprecedented blow.
At this time, on Saintess Peak, inside that usually cold and secluded palace.
Yang Lingtian reclined against the soft couch, his face pale and his breath faint. It seemed his gravely wounded body had yet to fully recover.
Listening to the earth-shaking sounds of battle coming from afar, the corner of his mouth curled into a cold smile that no one noticed.
"What a... splendid show."
Yang Lingtian's voice rang softly in his sea of consciousness, filled with delight and indifference.
"Xuan Tianba, and those old fogies—their expressions must be quite colorful right now, right?"
Through his powerful perception, he clearly saw the sky-piercing Demonic Qi and sword light in the direction of the main council hall.
"What a pity. I'm seriously wounded and can't go help them." He let out a regretful sigh.
In truth, he was enjoying the leisure, carefully observing every detail of the battlefield from the shadows.
Whenever he sensed some fiercely loyal disciples or elders of the sect trying to organize an effective counterattack,
or attempting to rescue some important figure, he would use the power of the Chaos Bead to release a faint wisp of Chaos Power without leaving a trace.
This wisp of power might interfere with the circulation of the opponent's spiritual energy.
It might distort their perception of space, causing their attacks to veer slightly off course.
Or it might create an insignificant illusion, luring them toward an even more dangerous battlefield.
These tiny maneuvers were so hidden that amid such a chaotic battlefield, no one could possibly detect them.
But their effects were deadly.
One after another, the Xuanba Sword Sect cultivators who had originally had a