Luo Chen Sword Palace

Hearing Wang Qi's calm voice, Jia Chenglie was somewhat dazed.

What was going on? He seemed to still have strength to spare?

Jia Chenglie knew clearly that his martial cultivation methods still differed somewhat from the Tianshu spells of his own true cultivation lineage. However, his martial training had been guided by an expert, so his combat prowess was by no means weak. Caught off guard, even Lian Xinjie would suffer a heavy loss. Not to mention that, under "that senior's" guidance, he had used some opportunistic method to condense this Martial Dao True Meaning.

Even Lian Xinjie would have to exert his full strength to withstand such an offensive. This... this mere early-stage Golden Core cultivator—how could he possibly still have strength to spare?

But in reality? Wang Qi did not merely have strength to spare—he was utterly at ease!

A faint yet discernible Sword Intent spread from his sword dance, as though the stench of blood had wrapped itself around everyone's noses, impossible to dispel. Two armies at war, a grand and righteous battlefield—washed over by that bloody reek, it instantly became an Asura slaughterhouse devoid of all benevolence and righteousness, where people killed people and people ate people. The vast kingly aura of Jia Chenglie's imperial way, sweeping across all under heaven, vanished without a trace.

"This is... Sword Intent?"

Among Jia Chenglie's lackeys, several possessed at least some discernment. They could see that what Wang Qi displayed within his sword dance was also Martial Dao True Meaning.

Before this sword lay mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

Wang Qi gave a low shout. The longsword in his hand slanted toward the sky, and his broad, sweeping "Passing Snow" slashed out. Several Sword Lights drifted like falling snow, cleaving through the opponent's interconnected palm force, which