The blood gushing from Wen Shu's neck wound stained his chest. When he felt he could no longer breathe, he felt as though his soul was being grabbed by an invisible hand from his dantian's sea of Qi. It seemed like it was pulled up from his heart before it was briefly lodged in his throat, and finally, escaped his body. He fell backward.
The sun shone on Yu Shangrong's face, illuminating his calm and stoic expression. Perhaps, he was used to seeing such a scene, he only felt apathy.
Yu Shangrong raised his palm. From the faraway tree trunk, the scabbard flew back to him, and he sheathed his sword. He suddenly wondered if his claim had been too audacious earlier? After all, there was still his invincible master!
…
At this moment, Lu Zhou was meditating on the Heavenly Writing scrolls since he had used up all of his extraordinary power.
The addition of 1,500 merit points left him puzzled.
