The peerless Overlord of Dasheng was the first to approach the Gate of Holy Hall. His will, descending across time and space, was vast and boundless as he took the lead. This mighty expert from a bygone age held a saber in hand. With the slightest flick, incomparable killing intent flowed along its edge, while razor-sharp blade aura scattered forth, condensing into streaks of brilliance that sliced through time and space.
Buzz...!
With one downward slash, the blade-light shifted in dazzling, dreamlike colors. Strands of saber aura crisscrossed the air, forming all manner of true laws—vast and profound, mysterious and unfathomable, as though their potential were endless and would never run dry.
"How many ashes have the rises and falls of kings and hegemons become? The gulf remains, locking in cold clouds. Rather than pursue imperial glory of three dynasties, they merely carved the rivers and mountains in half... The old fort has vanished with the flowing waters; returning crows carry only the dusk's dim glow. Pausing my horse in the west wind, I look back again and again—how could I bear to hear ape cries from across the shore!"
The Overlord of Dasheng chanted aloud, his bearing piercing the heavens and splitting gold and stone. The aura of his arcane power surged without end, as limitless as heaven and earth themselves.
At the same time, the saber's edge became like a radiant blazing sun, as if the scorching sun hung high in the sky. The blade bloomed with light and thrust straight at the Gate of Holy Hall.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
As this slash erupted, countless beams of light burst forth like a peacock spreading its tail, directly piercing the world-force surrounding the Gate of Holy Hall.
His mastery of the Tyrant Blade was so exquisite