Sword light howled, figures flickering in its wake.
Blood spears shot forth, sweeping all before them.
Everyone knew that fighting the Martial Ancestor, who rivaled the sixth tier, was no different from hurling eggs against a rock.
The cultivators dared not and could not engage him in a prolonged fight. If they died here, their sects far away on Wind-Approaching Continent would have even less hope of stopping the True Martial Army's advance.
They immediately made the decisive choice to flee at full speed in every direction.
Wang Xu, however, stared blankly at the young man flying toward him as sword light not far ahead, letting the surrounding cultivators escape.
The young cultivator had handsome features, red lips, and white teeth, yet vaguely resembled the figure Wang Xu had always kept in his heart.
"So... it wasn't an illusion just now..."
He murmured softly in a daze.
Hum!
Two ringing swords had already come slashing toward him.
Wang Xu abruptly came to his senses at the sound, yet allowed those two streaks of sword light from the same lineage to strike his body.
The sword light failed to penetrate his flesh at all, instead producing a sharp, grating clash!
Yet Wang Xu only stared blankly without striking back, letting the two streaks of sword light retreat immediately after contact.
The sword light then resolved into Zhao Feng and another young man in midair.
Zhao Feng's face held unprecedented fury as he unleashed a torrent of abuse:
"You fool! What are you doing?! Who told you to follow me?!"
The young cultivator's face, however, held a stubborn look.
"I don't want to be like Father, watching my own master go to his death!"
"You!"
Zhao Feng was furious, but there was no time to waste words.
His divine sense swept over