Those deep blue eyes suddenly contracted beneath the moonlight, their pupils reflecting the sword qi that filled the sky...
Golden, dense, overwhelming sword qi.
He vanished from where he stood like a ghost.
"BOOM!"
A sword scar fell upon the spot where he had just been standing, and the three old trees before the bun shop toppled in response. Their trunks had been severed at the roots, their cut surfaces smooth as mirrors. Their crowns crashed to the ground, kicking up clouds of dust and fallen leaves.
Du Yulin, standing by the lake, was stunned.
Her lips parted slightly, her eyes widened round, and for that instant, even her breathing stopped.
Because she had never imagined it.
She had never imagined that those vanished trapping formations could still unleash their final power at this very moment.
Hadn't those trapping formations already exhausted their spiritual power? Hadn't those formations completely collapsed? Hadn't those runes already become dry riverbeds?
And yet Wang Xian...
He had poured fresh water into those dry riverbeds.
He had made those dead formations rise again.
He had made those runes, already reduced to ruins, bloom with their most dazzling radiance at the final moment.
As she watched that figure descend through the night sky with sword qi filling the heavens, an indescribably complicated emotion surged within her.
Even as a succubus, Wang Xian...
was still an invincible god of slaughter.
Daoist Wu snorted coldly.
That snort came from the void, as though it had sounded from every direction at once.
His figure condensed once more amid the night wind!
He appeared atop the bun shop's roof.
Under the moonlight, he stood as motionless as a statue. In his right hand, he held a spirit sword, its blade flowing with a deep blue glow like a living