After Su Xin said those words, Nangong Ting leaped straight into the air. His powerful true qi smashed a gaping hole through the tavern wall, and he sprang into the sky.
But then he was surprised to find that Qiu Linguang hadn't moved. He was sitting there in a daze, as if he'd been frozen in place.
Nangong Ting had no time to think about anything else. For now, escaping was what mattered.
But the Xiantian Divine Palace Realm constables outside all attacked at once. Dozens of Divine Palace Realm martial artists unleashed their power, sending astral qi flying in every direction. Even Nangong Ting, a Spirit Transformation Realm expert, couldn't break free in an instant.
"Looking for death!"
A murderous glint appeared in Nangong Ting's eyes.
Once a demonic martial artist who had slaughtered more than a thousand people, Nangong Ting had later used Buddhist techniques to conceal the blood fiend aura within him. But that couldn't change the astonishing killing intent that clung to him.
A Crescent Demon Blade appeared in his hand. Blood Fiend Qi surged back upon itself, and he slashed. A blade arc more than ten zhang long crashed down, interwoven with golden Buddhist light. The sight was unnervingly sinister.
The Six Fan Sect constables felt their hearts tighten and hurried to dodge. But a figure appeared before them and thrust out a palm. His powerful true qi formed a gigantic handprint several zhang across, which crushed Nangong Ting's blade arc.
Tang Jiu stood in front of the Six Fan Sect constables. His bare hands had turned the color of black gold, as if they had been cast from metal.
Nangong Ting's expression darkened. Under Tang Xian's imposing presence, his adopted son Tang Jiu usually seemed unremarkable. But after exchanging blows with him, Nangong Ting