Dozens, even hundreds of sword auras suddenly snapped like kites with broken strings. They had clearly cut into Wang Xian's world, yet they could not pierce that faint, ethereal aura of chaos.
But the single horizontal slash Wang Xian had casually cut through the air earlier—One Sword No Trace—split into two in an instant, then three, then countless sword marks that fell upon Nalan Feng.
In the blink of an eye, everyone was stunned.
Everyone had thought that the elder from the Mystic Heaven Sect could take Wang Xian's head with a single sword strike.
Even if he couldn't, he should at least have gravely wounded him. No one had expected everything to turn around in an instant.
A young man in a golden-yellow official's robe stood quietly in the center of the square, bathed in golden light, a black sword held across his chest.
The plump elder from the Mystic Heaven Sect, meanwhile, was in a miserable state. Even his arm had fallen to the ground...
Golden light shimmered, and the area around the square fell utterly silent.
The fat man sealed his own acupoints, then quietly picked up his severed arm.
He took out a pill and swallowed it. Feng Sanniang cried out in alarm and darted over, then pulled out a wine flask and fed him a drink. After that, she took out a silk handkerchief and helped bandage his wound.
Nalan Feng let out an angry roar. A flash of golden light flickered at the stump of his arm, and the blood stopped gushing out.
Even so, his face turned deathly pale in that instant.
After all, even with a Void Refinement cultivation base, losing too much blood would still affect his ability to draw on his vitality and spirit.
The Right Chancellor and hundreds of