"Sage Duan of the Pure World Sect is dead?!"
Not long after Xing Yan returned alone to the edge of the arena, this astonishing news seemed to sprout wings and spread throughout the grounds.
At first, people merely whispered among themselves. Before long, the crowd was seething like boiling oil splashed with cold water. Whether they supported the Pure World Sect or detested it, no one could have imagined that in barely the time it took half a cup of tea to cool, the renowned Star-Sundering Soul-Slaying Blade would have his soul scattered to the winds!
"Now we're in for a show!"
The uninvolved spectators actually looked forward to the coming storm.
By now, Monk Golden Bowl, Luo Ziming, and the others had recovered from their initial shock and disbelief. Looking at the corpse their disciples had carried back, and the retrieved Soul-Slaying Blade, now utterly dull and lusterless, they mourned the fall of one of their own. Each felt the loss as keenly as if his own parents had died.
Meanwhile, the disciples of the opposing sects, whom these men habitually oppressed, all let out long inward sighs of relief. Remembering Duan Ruhui's vicious methods, those who knew the truth felt that evil had finally received its due. Yet although Zou Yanzhao and the others rejoiced inwardly, the Pure World Sect still possessed overwhelming numbers and lingering authority. They dared not display too much delight.
After standing stunned for a long while, Monk Golden Bowl finally reacted:
"Has my dear disciple gone to paradise already?"
Watching his followers cover his disciple's familiar face with a white cloth, even this Buddhist meditation master could not restrain his anguish. Then he recalled that the youth had seemingly used a secret art akin to his own sect's Soul Devouring. His lips immediately