"Impossible!"
All smugness vanished from Cen Huaijun's eyes, and he immediately shouted.
He had cultivated for over forty years and had established his immortal foundation twelve years ago. With his "Wu Central Palace," he could hold his own even against cultivators at the Foundation Establishment late stage. Even if he could not win, he should never have suffered such a hasty defeat.
Yet this young sword cultivator from Rain Xiang Mountain had shaken his mystic palace and scattered his magic power with one effortless move. How could he accept that?
"Pivot Image Inquiring Locust Mystic Art!"
With no time to panic, Cen Huaijun instinctively formed hand seals and cast his art, then marshaled all his true essence to steady his immortal foundation, hoping to suppress the tremors.
But he did not know that something even more terrifying lay ahead.
Meanwhile, Jiang Yang activated his immortal foundation and found it working with perfect ease. If the Wu Earth Mystic Palace had previously been an iron wall to him, it now amounted to little more than clay tiles and mud sculptures, ready to crumble at the slightest touch.
Having seen through all of Cen Huaijun's methods, Jiang Yang no longer intended to trade moves with him. Magic power surged into his sword, and he unleashed the most consummate stroke he had ever delivered.
"Leaning on Clear Autumn!"
The raised platform trembled, brown and blue-green intertwining.
Clang!
A clear note rang out like the sudden crack of spring thunder. First, a speck of white light appeared, then it swept through the entire hall like an autumn wind sweeping fallen leaves.
Wherever the autumn wind passed, it was as though a thousand years had washed over everything. The golden roof collapsed, walls cracked, pillars and beams toppled, and the platform's foundations crumbled.
The Wu