"Three thousand years. At last, a worthy vessel who can withstand my edge. Touch my hilt, and you shall gain the power to cleave heaven and earth-if you have the courage."
A baleful aura struck him head-on, and a domineering voice rang in his ears.
But Qiao Wu thought the Tyrant Sword looked like an idiot.
It felt as though a swindler was still working hard on the script while he, the audience, had already watched the finale.
Noticing that Qiao Wu was still examining it without taking any action,
the Tyrant Sword suddenly shuddered, and images of light and shadow formed around its blade.
Countless stunning scenes played out in succession like a revolving lantern.
In the first scene, on some hellish battlefield, the Tyrant Sword pierced an Archaic Demon Dragon a thousand meters long.
Dragon blood poured down like a celestial river, every drop corroding a bottomless pit in the ground.
The sword wielder stood atop the dragon's head. With a turn of the blade, the entire continental plate split, and lava gushed out to form new mountain ranges.
The scene shifted to the depths of space, where the Tyrant Sword hovered among shattered galaxies.
Six cleaved stars circled the blade, their searing Star Core energy coiling around its edge like a tamed pet.
Then the Tyrant Sword suddenly slashed, cutting a terrifying Starry Sky Giant Beast in two with a single strike, leaving wounds as smooth as mirrors.
The scene shifted again. At the center of an ancient sacrificial altar, hundreds of millions of warriors knelt before a sword wielder standing at the summit, who split the clouds with one stroke, lightning coiling around the blade.
Then the sword wielder flickered into motion and battled a Golden Divine Statue that towered between heaven and earth.
Every collision