Before, Lin Qiu had been formidable, cleaving the clouds with a single sword strike and displaying attack power that inspired despair. But in Chen Xin's perception, he was still a drawn sword, its edge fully exposed. Dangerous, yes, but its shape could still be made out.
But now...
How long had it been? It had only been a few days of that young man's so-called "seclusion."
At this moment, Lin Qiu stood there without the slightest trace of Soul Power fluctuations around him, just like an ordinary person who had never cultivated.
Yet the Seven Kill Sword Martial Soul within Chen Xin's body gave an extremely uneasy, faint hum from deep within its scabbard.
That wasn't fighting spirit.
It was fear.
It was like facing an unfathomably deep ocean, or a firmament that could collapse at any moment.
He was completely unreadable.
That young man's aura seemed to have undergone some kind of qualitative change overnight, going from "powerful" to "indescribable."
Only after they boarded the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's luxurious, spacious carriage and its wheels rolled out of Spirit City did Chen Xin's taut body finally relax a little.
The atmosphere inside the carriage was somewhat heavy.
Ning Fengzhi held his teacup without drinking. He merely watched the tea ripple faintly in the cup, his gaze somewhat distant.
"Uncle Sword."
Ning Fengzhi set down his teacup, lowering his voice.
"Just now... you seemed to have been watching His Highness the Holy Son the whole time."
Chen Xin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His hands, resting on his knees, clenched slightly.
" Sect Master, this boy... cannot be left alive, yet we cannot move against him."
Ning Fengzhi's gaze sharpened, and he gestured for Chen Xin to continue.
"When we were leaving just now, I tried