Apart from Shi Yan, the Netherworld Sect's master, no one present had expected the young man who arrived last and refused even to give his name to act so decisively, attacking without a word of nonsense.
And with that single move, his aura surged outward, encompassing every one of them.
Before they could even grow angry, the man before them dissolved into overlapping images of light, like the moon in water, like wind atop a mountain, assaulting them from every opening.
Clang!
The sword on Dugu Wuwu's back rang clearly. As though drawn by an invisible thread, it traced an arc like a cold crescent moon through the air and fell into his hand.
With a sharp hiss, he thrust at the approaching phantom. Fierce power surged from the blade, seemingly shredding the very air.
Hong Shan roared in fury. His massive, cross-legged body sprang up, and he exhaled like thunder as he hurled a punch.
Daoist Netherbone remained indifferent. He merely extended a large, withered hand from his sleeve and abruptly clawed forward.
Myriad Gu Madam's colorful robes fluttered. Beneath her silken, seductive gaze, their shifting folds concealed an unending succession of killing moves.
Night Owl sneered. A pitch-black short blade had appeared in his hand, and he slashed it out without a sound.
For a moment, none of the five could distinguish whether the figures attacking them were real or illusory, but that powerful pressure could not be faked.
Still, as great masters standing at the summit of the world, they would never readily show weakness. What did it matter if they could not tell truth from illusion? They met it head-on all the same.
On the other side!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The air seemed to boil, successive explosions ringing out as force burst apart.
Su Qing, Master