Meanwhile, enthralled by Xinzi's mystical ability, the White Immortal sect male disciples knelt at the formation's core, chanting scriptures as their cultivation bases surged upward—forming a tower of resplendent qi light that snatched the eyes of the onlooking spectators.
At a steady pace, the Yang Doll got closer to completing Xia Hu's sword condensation. Alas, the motley crew of disciples couldn't buy the fem swordmaster enough time to cross the critical step. Worse, they now worked against him—over-drafting their cultivation bases to carry out Xinzi's nefarious designs. Unhurried, the monk took out a bracelet adorned with lotus-shaped gilded stones and chanted ordinary Lianist chants while smiling at Xia Hu.
The smile—that teasing, unsettling smile that so often concealed dastardly plots, sent shivers down Xia Hu's spine. "Not right. Knowing that I'm on the brink of turning all sword orbs into a Yang Sword, why is he still so calm?"
