"Whoosh."
A fierce wind swept through the desert. The blazing white light that had seemed ready to swallow the world slowly faded, and color returned to everything.
Ash and hot wind, both flecked with sparks, struck Xia Lun's face. He wiped the grit away and looked into the distance.
The vast Conqueror army that had once blotted out the sky had been split in two. Wisps of pure white flame flickered on the ground, while the cone-shaped area scoured by the Faith Beam had become an empty white expanse.
Armor, rituals, and countless Withered Dead had all turned to ash before the holy light. Even Living Corpse Proud Sun had been utterly incinerated by the strike.
A deathly silence fell. Only the grim wind blowing across the desert could be heard. Every Withered Dead stared at Xia Lun, dumbfounded, their resolve shaken.
Xia Lun narrowed his eyes. He had won decisively, but confronting a Secret Art Scholar head-on had cost him dearly. Not only had he used his precious trump card, the Faith Beam Bottle, but he had also burned through a full 112 years of his lifespan!
He had only 87 years left.
Xia Lun sighed softly and turned his blade. Scorching sand slid down its edge like blood and pattered onto his boots.
"Hopefully, the Knowledge Proud Sun drops will make up for the loss."
Xia Lun took a small step forward. Far away, the Withered Dead army recoiled as though struck by an invisible greatsword. Every last one of them stepped back, and that was only the beginning.
When Xia Lun took his second step, the silence shattered into a clamor of ghostly wails. The Withered Dead in the front ranks threw down their weapons and fled, each scrambling to outrun the others. Only a few Undead