Xu Zimo looked up.
He looked at those people calling themselves the masters of Cloud Pavilion.
They were all formed from gathered phantoms.
Xu Zimo could not help but sneer.
"A bunch of profiteers who do not even dare show their true faces. All you can do is run your mouths."
At Xu Zimo's words, someone snorted coldly.
"You are at death's door, yet you still dare spout such arrogant nonsense."
"Today, we will surely behead you."
As their voices fell, every figure in the void vanished.
Immediately afterward, boundless yellow sand began to surge through the void.
This yellow sand was no ordinary sand.
When it blew, it carried something of the Samadhi Divine Wind's aura.
It could blow heaven and earth dark, scrape ghosts and gods into sorrow, split rocks and shatter cliffs; once it blew upon a person, their life would end.
These winds and sands could completely block a cultivator's divine soul perception.
Within this storm of wind and sand, a cultivator was like a blind man, unable to see anything or sense anything.
It was precisely under such circumstances that the success rate of assassination increased dramatically.
Boom!
A shocking force suddenly came from the void at his side.
A long spear pierced through the endless sandstorm, tore open the void before it, and lunged fiercely at Xu Zimo.
But Xu Zimo merely sneered.
With a wave of his hand, he instantly snapped the spear in two.
Yet the spear was merely a feint, meant to draw attention away from the true attack.
The next moment, several figures attacked from every direction.
There were ten assassins surrounding him.
They were Cloud Pavilion's finest assassins.
Their movement techniques were ghostly; whether in their grasp of timing, speed, or strength—
They could achieve a one-strike kill.