Bone Slayer's twelve legs drove deep into the Void, anchoring his body like twelve iron stakes.
His arms—no, he had no arms. His twelve legs were his weapons. All twelve rose at once, their tips aimed at Ye Lin's back.
Gray light flickered at the tips, like twelve universes on the verge of eruption.
Ye Lin was caught in the middle.
Before him was Yuan Zhou's seven-colored pillar of light; behind him were Bone Slayer's twelve leg-spikes; above him was Cockroach's heavenly net.
Attacked from three sides, there was nowhere to flee.
Ye Lin stopped.
His gaze remained calm.
The long sword lay across before him. He pressed his left index and middle fingers together and slowly drew them from the base of the blade to its tip.
Where his fingertips passed, silver-white patterns lit up across the sword.
The patterns resembled ancient runes, slowly flowing over the blade and giving off a faint glow.
This was his sword dao—pure sword dao.
He needed no flashy techniques, no dazzling brilliance.
Only one sword.
One sword to break ten thousand laws.
Ye Lin struck with his sword.
This strike was slow to the extreme.
So slow that everyone present could clearly see every angle of the blade, every shift of the silver-white patterns upon it, every fine ripple left behind as the sword tip cleaved through the air.
Yet this strike was also fast to the extreme.
So fast that before the seven-colored pillar of light had reached Ye Lin, the sword light had already cut into it.
So fast that before Bone Slayer's leg-spikes could thrust out, the sword light had already struck his legs.
So fast that before Cockroach's heavenly net could descend, the sword light had already cut across its mesh.
One sword, three slashes.
Three streams of