Ye Lin slashed with his sword, and the demon before him instantly turned into a wisp of black smoke.
For a moment, Ye Lin was like a god slaying gods and a Buddha slaying Buddhas—none of these demons could hold him back for even a second.
"Sword One, Sword Piercing the Firmament, slash."
Ye Lin swung his sword, and a scorching blood-red beam of sword light cleaved toward Wang Feng. But in the next instant, a slender figure appeared before Wang Feng and blocked the strike for him.
That figure immediately turned into black smoke and dissipated between heaven and earth.
"Damn it. They fear no death, and I can't kill them all. What a nuisance."
Ye Lin's face was ice-cold as he steadily closed in on Wang Feng. Sensing Ye Lin's movements, Wang Feng showed not the slightest fear, merely letting out a cold laugh. Too naive.
If the Eight Directions Well had only this much ability, it would never have made the geniuses of the third echelon tremble at the mere mention of its name.
"Eight Directions Well, Eight Directions Phantoms, emerge."
Wang Feng formed seals with both hands and slammed them fiercely onto the ground. Instantly, eight figures emerged from the eight deep wells on the ground. All eight were black phantoms, their substance impossible to discern, like ghosts and sprites.
The next moment, the eight phantoms charged at Ye Lin. Ye Lin slashed with his sword, but the Long Sword passed straight through the phantom's body. Then the phantom struck Ye Lin's chest with its palm, sending him flying backward before his body crashed heavily in the distance.
Ye Lin clutched his chest as he knelt on one knee, staring at the black handprint on his chest with an incomparably grim expression.
What the hell were