The voice rang out.
At the same time, the figures of the two cultivators caught by the formation light had already blurred within the gray-white mist.
The leading cultivator's eyes were blood-red.
Yet he could only watch helplessly as the vitality of his two fellow disciples faded away, their auras turning into part of the formation's circulation.
Such a miserable scene was not happening in just one place.
Outside Tianjue Peak, the powerful auras that had shot into the sky one after another earlier were now falling into disorder in succession.
Magical treasures lost their light, and Sword Intent collapsed and scattered.
Even more screams rang out from within the gray-white mist, only to be cut off abruptly in the blink of an eye.
Inside the formation.
Feng Jianxing's fists were clenched tight. He could see the situation outside perfectly clearly, and the sight made the veins on his forehead bulge.
Before him, the Tiger Soul Flying Sword rang out in a great sword cry, on the verge of flying from his hand.
"Bastard!"
With an angry shout, Sword Intent surged around Feng Jianxing like a tide.
But the moment he moved, Su Shi'er's voice rang out.
"Fellow Daoist Feng, you must not draw your sword!"
Feng Jianxing's movement suddenly froze.
"Are we supposed to just watch helplessly?"
"What this treasure borrows is precisely the qi connection between a cultivator and their magical treasure, Sword Intent, or art when they make a move."
Su Shi'er's voice was urgent, yet he still did his utmost to remain calm.
With the situation changing before his eyes, he was more anxious than anyone.
But the more it was so, the more he could not act on impulse.
"If Fellow Daoist Feng draws your sword now, you may not be able to save them,