Before the sigh had faded, the charred willow at the village entrance moved.
Its lone tender green branch swayed gently in the air, then the supple twig suddenly snapped straight.
An emerald halo flowed over its surface.
It thrust out.
There was no earth-shaking roar, nor any sky-filling display of rune light.
Only a green afterimage cleaved through the sky.
The purple flying sword the Purple Mountain Marquis had unleashed hovered just three inches above Shi Hao's head, its tip spitting sharp purple radiance.
The willow branch swept past.
Crack.
The treasured flying sword, forged from the region's specialty purple gold iron and nurtured for decades, broke cleanly in two.
The cut was smooth as a mirror.
Without slowing, the willow branch shot straight toward the Purple Mountain Marquis's brow.
The Purple Mountain Marquis's pupils contracted violently. He wanted to retreat, wanted to unleash a protective talisman.
But his body could not keep pace with his thoughts.
Pfft.
A soft sound rang out.
The willow branch pierced the Purple Mountain Marquis's brow and emerged from the back of his head, unstained by a single trace of blood.
Next came the Golden Wolf Tribe's chief.
He had only just raised his Mountain-Splitting Great Saber when that streak of green reached him.
The blade shattered.
A red dot appeared on his throat.
Last was the lord of Luofu Marsh.
The gourd on his back had just spewed poisonous water across the sky when the willow branch gave a gentle shudder.
An invisible ripple spread outward.
The poisonous water surged back.
Like a spirit serpent, the green branch instantly coiled around his neck.
It tightened.
Crunch.
His neck bones shattered.
In that single instant, all three powerful figures, each a spirit transformation realm expert who ruled over a vast territory, became corpses.
Their