A Sword Before Him

Before the Son of Heaven's Hall, Feng Xiuyun's spirit sword had already left its sheath, coldly pointing at Satongtian, who stood in the wind.

It was as though a sword had come from beyond the heavens, pointing at the old man standing in the wind.

Ignoring the millions before her, she split open the cold wind before the Son of Heaven's Hall with a single sword. There was only one meaning behind it: cut down the old priest's head.

Next came the three people in the wind. Even the man and woman beside Murong Wan'er were not going to be spared.

No one had imagined that an elder of Bright Moon Manor would strike at the slightest disagreement.

That sword was too fast—so fast that everyone saw only a bolt of lightning.

Yet such a thunderous sword had no need to conceal its momentum.

It was as though Bright Moon Manor wanted every hero beneath heaven to know that this sword would sever Satongtian's head.

Countless gazes fell upon the old man in the plaza who had just broken through his realm.

Rather than nervousness, it was anticipation.

Some wanted to see Satongtian die beneath Bright Moon Manor's sword at once. Others hoped the old priest would turn the tables against heaven itself at the final moment, just as that woman had before.

The cheers and discussions abruptly ceased.

Heaven and earth fell silent.

The sound of an iron sword leaving its sheath rang out.

It was the clang of the end of the iron sword striking against its scabbard.

To Feng Hao and Hu Keke, it sounded less like that and more like the iron sword in their master's hand had transformed into thunder beside their ears in an instant.

At the moment Bright Moon Manor's spirit sword was