The falling branches were colossal. Amid an unending series of cracks, they plunged into the mortal world like countless cities in the sky, their tremendous weight producing wave after wave of dull impacts.
Many of the Third Realm cultivators who had just retreated were caught among them. They unleashed their techniques to destroy the falling branches, flames, water vapor, and golden light that tore through everything appearing at once. They obliterated the canopy raining down from the sky, then formed one invisible hurricane after another.
A sudden rush of water sounded beside Yang Wenqing's ears. As the wind howled, spiritual energy from outside streamed in with it, diluting the dense wood spirit aura here at a rate visible to the naked eye.
The surrounding Wanxuan cultivators all used their own methods to erect defensive barriers. In the blink of an eye, an energy shield spanning five or six kilometers took shape.
Only then did everyone realize that their divine sense was slowly recovering. Ding Mu's sword strike had severed the banyan branches that had blocked spiritual energy from entering this space.
Five or six minutes later, the retreating Third Realm cultivators had cleared away most of the fallen branches ahead. These included quite a few main branches, each weighing almost as much as an entire city. By now, those cultivators were utterly exhausted.
There was no need for Wanxuan's cultivators to drive them off. Of their own accord, they turned into streaks of light and fled toward the Far Northern Seas, terrified that even a moment's delay would leave them detained by Wanxuan.
The hurricanes gradually subsided. A cold wind swept through, quickly dispersing the dust that filled the sky, and unobstructed moonlight spilled down from above. Yang Wenqing instinctively reached out to catch it. Only now did he feel