Fireworks Shook the Gods

Snowflakes fell like knives and swords, drifting lightly onto Ning Qiuyu's bloodstained clothes. The spirit sword in her hand was already covered in cracks.

Looking down at the spirit sword in her hand, she couldn't imagine where all those sword marks had come from.

After all, Wang Xian had only struck her with one palm, yet the sword in his hand had instantly slashed into Li Yidao's shoulder.

One palm had destroyed decades of her hard cultivation. Amid the wind and snow, her beautiful face slowly aged.

Her brows furrowed, and she looked like a vengeful ghost.

She even regretted it. She shouldn't have rushed out herself.

There were so many heroes under heaven. Why should a woman like her serve as a mere vanguard for them?

In that instant, she thought of what Wang Xian had said: "The heroes under heaven are all ants..."

With a single sword, the young man had made the heroes under heaven bow their heads.

Li Yidao sensed a fierce sword intent swirling through the wind and snow, yet he couldn't see its source. He couldn't help but sigh with emotion.

He swept his sword through the snow, wanting to fight again, but could only ward off the endlessly falling flakes. In the end, he had no choice but to retreat, all the way to the edge of the square.

Only then did he narrowly escape the snowflakes dancing like swords across the square.

With that single step back, he seemed to stand in the void, quietly watching the scene before him.

It was no exaggeration to call it a battlefield of clashing spears and armored cavalry.

The wind and snow were stained red with blood.

Severed hands and arms littered the square before the Hall of the Son of Heaven. It was a