More and more silver threads appeared, until it felt as though a colossal wave made entirely of silver threads was crashing down on them. All twelve of them felt tiny, while the world seemed vast beyond measure.
Yet that surging mass of silver threads also signaled enormous danger.
Of the twelve, Chen Mo was the only Old Sixth, suppressing his strength and pretending well enough to avoid suspicion. Like the other Houtian Martial Artists, his face had darkened, and he appeared somewhat outmatched when dealing with the silver threads. Everyone else, however, was attacking the threads with all their strength.
As time passed, cutting them became increasingly difficult. The thicker silver threads mixed among them had nearly reached the thickness of a finger. Without using their full strength, they could barely cut through those threads at all.
Of course, that did not mean the silver threads were impossible to deal with. As long as they had enough people and kept cutting, they refused to believe the threads were truly endless.
Qian Ying frowned. From the moment he had begun fighting the silver threads until now, he had gained a certain understanding of them. But faced with such an endless onslaught, anyone would eventually collapse. Still, based on their current numbers, even if the threads increased tenfold, he could wear them down and destroy them all.
However, it now seemed that there were far more silver threads than that.
For them to keep consuming their strength like this was not advisable. If they exhausted too much power and some unexpected situation arose, the entire group might face an unimaginable danger.
Thus, Qian Ying rose into the air and spread out his domain, unleashing his Xiantian power at full force. In an instant, he obliterated every silver thread before the twelve of