The emerald-green grassland was a complete mess.
In the sky, figures wrapped in blazing divine light repeatedly charged at the young man in the center.
The young man had delicate features and clear eyes, limpid as a lake. He was graceful as jade, tall and slender, with the divine bearing and sacred bones of a banished immortal.
This person was Xiao Yun.
At this moment, Xiao Yun had transformed the Space-Time Sword into an enormous shield, fending off attacks from every direction.
Meanwhile, he wielded the Purple Firmament Sword in his hand, continuously slaughtering the Daluo Golden Immortal powerhouses who came at him.
He no longer knew how many Daluo Golden Immortals he had killed. In any case, he had lost count.
Nor did he have the time to count.
Because enemies kept arriving in an endless stream.
In the distance, Daluo Golden Immortal peak-stage powerhouses and Three-Corpse Quasi-Saints lay in wait. Their gazes were locked onto Xiao Yun as they waited for an opportunity to strike.
These are all old schemers, all hoping to reap the fisherman's profit. Xiao Yun snorted inwardly, but he was in no hurry.
Still, he continued suppressing his strength.
"Pfft!"
Suddenly, Xiao Yun spat out a mouthful of blood, staining his robes red. Both hands hurriedly braced the shield as he resisted the attacks of dozens of Daluo Golden Immortals.
His face was somewhat pale, and even the golden light around him had dimmed.
The power unleashed by the Purple Firmament Sword had weakened as well.
Without a doubt, Xiao Yun was about to collapse. He seemed to have reached his limit.
"He's injured! He won't last much longer! Get him!" A Daluo Golden Immortal in the rear shouted excitedly, his eyes lighting up.
"He finally coughed up blood. I knew he couldn't hold