Qingyun Sect.
Ancestral Hall.
Boom!
The two forces collided with a thunderous crash.
There was no earth-shaking roar, only a silence that shook the soul.
It was as if every sound had been swallowed by an invisible force.
The surrounding trees shook violently, as though gripped by an unseen hand.
Countless leaves and dead branches instantly crumbled to dust and drifted through the air.
Ye Xuan felt an unimaginable force surge through Chang Qing Sword and straight into his meridians.
Deep within his body, something groaned under the strain.
Soon,
Ye Xuan's face had gone deathly pale. His chest heaved, and a metallic sweetness rose in his throat.
But he clenched his teeth and refused to make a sound.
The bamboo broom remained perfectly still, still pointed three inches from his brow.
It was just a hair's breadth away, yet seemed as distant as a vast chasm.
The old man's single arm merely trembled slightly.
His face showed no expression, as if he had only given the broom a casual flick.
The long-suppressed battle intent burned fiercely in his eyes, then vanished in an instant.
Ye Xuan took a sudden step forward, swaying so badly he nearly fell.
Chang Qing Sword hummed, its green light blazing, but it still couldn't withstand that invisible pressure. Its glow crumbled inch by inch.
"Slay Ghosts and Gods!"
The words were forced from Lei Wen's throat.
His voice was hoarse, yet filled with defiance.
He saw it!
In that flash of an instant, he saw it!
Not spiritual power...
Not a technique...
But that indomitable, forward-charging momentum.
That arrogance that rose above heaven and earth, daring to slay gods and destroy demons!
The old man gazed quietly at Lei Wen.
At last, a hint of complexity entered his eyes.
He withdrew the broom.
He