Among the Tiger Guards, their leader Gao Da gave a low shout. Seven figures charged out at once, their blades gleaming like snow, their killing intent surging like the tide.
Their seven auras linked together, they advanced and retreated as one, their coordination seamless. This formation was enough to hold off an upper ninth rank.
Ye Liuyun's gaze did not rest on them for even an instant.
He merely raised his hand and gently brushed it aside.
The movement was light and slow, like a celestial casually brushing away an obstructing cloud.
Yet with that unhurried movement, the air beneath his palm was compressed into a tangible wall, solid as a sea of clouds and heavy as a mountain range.
The cloud wall thundered forward and struck the Tiger Guards' formation. The seven figures flew away like fallen leaves swept high into the sky by a hurricane, utterly powerless to resist.
Thud, thud, thud-
The seven men landed by the roadside, crushing a patch of grass. Their blades lay scattered across the ground, gleaming coldly in the sunlight. They struggled to get up, but seemed to have been drained of all their strength, unable to move for a long while.
A deathly silence fell over everyone.
No one dared move.
Among the other guards in the procession, some forgot to breathe, others forgot to blink. Cold sweat slid from their temples and dripped onto their collars, spreading into dark patches, yet they remained utterly unaware.
They dared not draw their blades.
Ye Liuyun continued walking forward.
One step, two steps, three steps.
He stopped ten feet in front of Fan Xian.
Only ten feet.
He studied Fan Xian, his gaze calm.
"Fan Xian?"
He asked.
Fan Xian's throat went dry, and his palms were covered in cold sweat.
He had