Lu Feng could never have imagined that the Rusty Sword, which only he should have been able to wield, was now in the High Priest's hands, being toyed with as lightly as a feather.
Watching the High Priest handle the Rusty Sword as though its immense weight were nothing, the members of the Witch Clan behind him wore expressions of boundless admiration.
When Xiang Xie had knocked Lu Feng unconscious that day, the Rusty Sword had fallen to the ground as well.
Though unremarkable in appearance, this sword was wondrous beyond measure. It had even shattered the golden ring in Xiang Zhou's hand, which was nearly a Sub-Sage Divine Weapon. Naturally, Xiang wanted it for himself.
But the Rusty Sword was peculiar: no one but Lu Feng could wield it. Though Xiang was a Quasi-Saint expert, he could not shift the strange sword even a fraction, no matter how much strength he exerted.
Unwilling to give up, he could only invite other members of the Witch Clan to try. Without exception, even the clan's strongest experts, including his elder brother Xiang Liu, could do nothing with the Rusty Sword.
The experts, who had originally only wanted to see Xiang embarrassed, suddenly became interested. They desperately wanted to learn the sword's origins, but no matter where they searched, they found not a single clue.
Left with no other choice, they could only send someone to fetch the clan's High Priest.
Though the High Priest was relatively small compared to the other members of the Witch Clan, he held the highest standing in the entire clan.
He knew the heavens above and the earth below; there was almost nothing he did not know. His strength was also the greatest in the entire Witch Clan.
The Witch Clan loved battle, and experts from