It was that short sword again.
Zeng Anmin's gaze fell straight upon it.
When that short sword appeared, it seemed utterly ordinary.
But once it began to move—
Zeng Anmin felt even his mind and spirit sway along with it.
As though they were about to be drawn into the sword itself.
"What... is this feeling?"
Zeng Anmin sensed the yearning rising from within his body.
As well as the fact that his eyes were fixed unblinkingly upon that short sword.
What is wrong with me?
Why am I being drawn to that short sword?
Zeng Anmin's brows furrowed slightly.
It had been the same during the Illusion Array Imperial Examination last time.
Wasn't I the Unyielding Martial God?
Wasn't my Golden Finger a hundred-percent immunity to mental attacks?
Why am I still unable to stop myself from being drawn in by that short sword's trajectory?
He watched that short sword with utmost seriousness.
He was deep in thought.
"Kill!!!"
A hoarse voice rang out.
It was the evil corpse of the Daoist Talisman Sect.
The short sword seemed to bear the most dazzling light in the world.
Drawing everyone's gaze.
Like a towering mountain, it pressed down toward the evil corpse at the center of the hall.
It was not fast.
Slow enough for everyone to see it with perfect clarity.
"Kill!"
Not a trace of abnormality appeared on the evil corpse's exquisitely beautiful face.
She raised her hand.
She was not fast, either.
Her arm reached toward the short sword, seeking to "take" it.
Yet, contrary to expectation, her hand did not seize the short sword.
"Chirp."
An almost imperceptible sound arose.
The short sword did not even pass through the position of her arm.
Instead, it eerily circled once around her neck.
"Return."
Second Rank Ancestor Wang