The mystic cultivators had all retreated far away to avoid the force of the hundred-odd mystic weapons exploding.
Now they hovered scattered through the air, staring intently at the swirling storm where the two had fought. Every face was grave as they awaited the final outcome.
Then someone suddenly pointed, saying with some excitement, "Look! It's the Profound Rectifier!"
They looked over and saw Zhang Yu emerging from the distant sky amid a shaft of dawn light. He held the Cicada Cry Sword, green radiance circling his body, his robes fluttering as he stepped upon misty jade vapors.
At the sight of him, everyone surged forward in excitement, their gazes brimming with anticipation and exhilaration.
Countless threads of rain began to drift down from the sky. Under the golden sunlight, a brilliant rainbow appeared within the hazy vapor.
Zhang Yu did not stop until he reached them. He raised his head and swept his gaze over the cultivators, saying, "This battle has been won. Everyone, we may leave now."
The moment those words fell, the somewhat weaker cultivators in the distance immediately burst into cheers.
Once the cheering subsided, Zhang Yu flicked his sleeve. As the Cicada Cry Sword in his hand let out a clear cry, he rode a streak of azure light up upon the rainbow. Behind him, the cultivators, their hearts still surging, followed Chasing Light and trailed after him.
Elsewhere, Daoist Lin stared at the surging tides for a long while without speaking.
Bai Xiu's aura had indeed vanished. He had not revived as he had before.
A deep sense of desolation filled his heart.
Perhaps to those mystic cultivators, Zhang Yu had merely defeated the greatest enemy before them. But to True cultivators such as themselves, the matter was far from so simple, and the