"How was that?" Princess Qingqing asked Fu Zhiwen with a smile.
What could Fu Zhiwen say? The Mayflies had pressured him until he could barely breathe; how could he spare attention for her?
Yet just as Princess Qingqing was feeling smug, a tail stinger like a sword holding up the heavens suddenly thrust out from high above, striking at her with the speed of thunder before one could cover one's ears. The stinger easily pierced through the five layers of defensive formations laid down by the Creation Sect disciples and descended above Princess Qingqing's head.
The space within several hundred zhang of where the tail stinger fell was shrouded. Its sharp gale tore the void apart piece by piece, and the force of cracked space, mixed with the stinger's sharpness, swept Princess Qingqing into a spatial vortex. Layer upon layer of spatial fragments drifted toward her like falling snowflakes. Though those snowflakes were beautiful, they were deadly. Not to mention that Princess Qingqing's flesh and blood would inevitably be ground into fragments wherever the spatial shards fell, even if the tail stinger itself struck her, she would surely perish like jade shattered and fragrance fading.
"Your Highness..." Yu Xiajing was horrified and hurriedly tried to rush over to save her, but her cultivation was far too shallow. How could she compare with a ninth grade of Yuan Force Mayfly?
Princess Qingqing, however, showed no panic whatsoever. Instead, she raised her head to look at the life-stealing darkness and the spatial fragments that would subject her to Lingchi. Not only did she fail to activate her avatar, she did not even use any Confucian cultivation divine abilities. Her eyes merely revealed a dazed look as she murmured, "I'm finally going to die! If I die... will that enemy of mine feel