Wang Xian raised his head to gaze at the moon and let out a soft sigh.
The sigh was so faint that even the succubus beside him could barely hear it. Yet the emotion it contained was immensely heavy.
It was neither regret nor sorrow, but the calm detachment of one who had seen through life and death, reincarnation, and all the karmic bonds of the world.
It was as though he were muttering to himself, yet also as though he were speaking to the succubus. The fingers holding the flower flicked toward the night sky, and a faint gleam instantly pierced the boundless darkness.
A white wildflower flew from his fingertips, spinning through the night sky as its petals scattered one by one, turning into specks of dim light.
The light was so weak as to be almost invisible, dimmer even than the glow at the tail of a firefly, yet its speed was incomparably swift!
Faster than the wind, faster than sound, faster than light!
A threadlike flash of icy light lay hidden within the frozen void.
At the very instant Daoist Wu's withered phantom finger pressed against the edge of Du Yulin's Frostfall sword... time seemed to freeze.
All sounds between heaven and earth fell silent. Even the wind stopped.
A wisp of frost came from nowhere and silently entered Daoist Wu's brow!
The frost was as fine as a strand of silk, yet it contained the power to freeze the soul.
Daoist Wu was suddenly startled. His pupils contracted sharply, and his entire body stiffened in place like a corpse struck by lightning.
The spirit sword he had conjured in his hand shattered with a boom, its fragments scattering beneath the moonlight.
A thread of pale golden blood seeped from the wound and slowly slid down