"Chen Beixuan has won the battle!"
A woman in a white outfit said as she watched the battle from afar.
She looked sixteen or seventeen from a distance, but up close, her features resembled a young lady in her thirties. She gazed into the distance. Her eyes were dreamy, yet they had a great degree of perspicacity and discernment. Trying to read her expression was like reading a mysterious scroll that contained great wisdom.
"Pray to the Glorious Amitābha Buddha."
A kind monk standing right next to the woman exclaimed. Then he said calmly, "Patron Lin had cultivated his Blade Qi for sixty years, but he was still no match against Chen Beixuan. What a shame! If Patron Lin were alive a thousand years ago, he could at least reach the status of a Bodhisattva instead of Mortal Deity. "
"Hehe… Mortal Deity."
