The Ultimate Clash, Without a Single Weakness

Xuan Ji's aura underwent a drastic change. An ancient mirror hovered above his head, sinking and rising.

Its frame was stark white, as though forged from the Remains of Gods and Demons, and carved with deep, intricate patterns; its surface was pitch-black, like an ink pool that had lain still for countless ages, cascading strands of black light.

"What kind of Fierce Weapon is this?"

Qi Yuan's voice trembled. The instant his gaze swept across the mirror's surface, an irresistible force surged toward him. His entire body seemed to plunge into the Nine Nether Cold Abyss, his every thought reduced to ashes. His soul felt as if it had turned into duckweed, about to leave his body.

"Do not look directly at the mirror's surface! This thing's erosion of the divine sense is far too powerful!"

Gu Hanzhou shouted harshly. The Sword Intent surrounding him was provoked into action, emitting waves of buzzing.

Hearing this, everyone was horrified and hurriedly shifted their gazes away.

Only then did that strange sensation of the Primordial Spirit leaving the body slowly fade. Everyone was drenched in sweat, as though they had been reborn.

At the center of the battlefield, Shen Yun's gaze was as bright as a torch, Piercing through layers of black light and locking onto that mysterious Ancient Mirror.

Within his perception, as the Ancient Mirror rotated, wisps of strange mist silently surged in from every direction, invading him like living creatures.

The mist actually ignored the protective Immortal Principles. It seeped through every opening and burrowed straight toward the depths of his Spiritual Platform.

Sensing the invasion of an external evil, the Supreme Primordial Spirit abruptly opened its eyes. Radiance filled the sky, illuminating the entire sea of consciousness.

At the same time, the phantom of the Primordial Spirit