Unclear

The instant Zhou Qiubai stepped off the city wall, it felt as though he had stepped into the void, yet he did not feel himself falling in the slightest.

The sea breeze suddenly stopped.

The banners atop the walls had been whipping wildly in the gale, but now they slowly drooped.

The rolling white waves upon the sea froze in an instant. Even the mist atop their crests seemed to cease drifting, suspended in midair.

The morning fog also shifted from motion to stillness. Countless tiny droplets hung in the air, reflecting faint rainbows beneath that streak of sword light.

Heaven and earth fell silent as the man in white swung his sword.

When the sword emerged, heaven and earth darkened; its frosted edge reflected the sea's chill.

The tide's roar stilled all sounds; killing intent subdued a thousand surges.

An autumn wind stirred a single leaf; a lone swan crossed the evening clouds.

Where the man in white swung his sword, eight hundred withered and fell.

Souls flew with no road home; cold blood could no longer form waves.

Only the moon above the city walls remained, still shining upon the green hills.

The moment the Sword Intent spread out, everyone felt an illusion, as though this sword was not aimed at the eight hundred Soul Masters below the city walls, but at time itself.

Below the city walls.

Demon Bear Douluo was the first to catch sight of that sword light.

The battle instincts of a level ninety-five Title Douluo screamed madly at that moment, yet he had nowhere to retreat.

His body had already charged into the air. The ten crimson blade lights slashed out by his crossing claws continued flying forward, while momentum carried him toward the descending sword light.

The instant the sword light fell,