Like a rainstorm, arrows were launched from outside the second palace door and transformed into an oppressive sheet of black cloud that seemed to whizz through the air and clouds, shooting straight for the lonesome pair.
The fine steed let out a wretched cry before collapsing, its body turning into a honeycomb in the blink of an eye.
Yun Hen leaped up into the air, his body forming a fish-like arc. The light on his sword danced as it formed a sturdy wall that kept the arrows out of Meng Fuyao's way. He activated his sword, turning into a whirlwind that revolved around her endlessly and blocking everything out.
Yan Lie, who was guarding the third door and General Pei, who was guarding the second, were both reputable martial artists with keen eyesight. It took them only one second to recognize that the youth had engaged a paramount technique that morphed sword into breath, solid and tough. Shock was evident in their faces, but a cold smile emerged soon after.
