"I'll have to use my backup plan early."
Bai Xiaowen drew a deep breath and was about to give the order when the Daoist Langya Zi glided forward beside him.
"My lord, allow me to help you break Zhang Jiao's Thunder-Controlling Demonic Art."
Langya Zi drew a wooden sword about three inches long from his sleeve, cut his finger, then pointed at Zhang Jiao.
Whoosh!
The Three-Inch Wooden Sword swelled in the wind. It flew above Zhang Jiao's head, grew into a three-foot sword, and hung there.
An energy Bai Xiaowen could not see but could feel spread outward. It seemed to lock down the space around them, making even the flow of Psionic Particles turn sluggish.
Crackle! Zhang Jiao's Lightning Strike Aura abruptly collapsed. He coughed violently, choking up clots of black blood. The black donkey beneath him gave a mournful cry and fell to its knees, crushed into pulp!
"Who... are you?"
Zhang Jiao looked as though he were bearing the weight of a mountain. Half crouching, half kneeling, he raised his eyes to Langya Zi.
Langya Zi raised the first two fingers of his left hand and gave a half salute with his right. "Senior Brother Zhang Jiao, I come on the orders of my master, Master Black Horn, and our senior uncle, Nanhua Perfected One, to put an end to you. Our senior uncle's sword of command is here. Why do you not kneel and repent?"
The three-foot wooden sword shone with blue-green light. It looked as though it came from the same source as the glow of Zhang Jiao's Daoist arts, but its density was on another level.
With his mental strength, Bai Xiaowen could sense the difference. The wooden sword's glow was purer, carrying an air of transcendence, while Zhang Jiao's surged like the