"If I were you, I'd get up obediently, give up on these two red broken swords, and then walk far, far away to avoid being killed," a voice laced with a hint of mockery yet filled with evil qi suddenly rang out above Ye Zhen's head.
Feeling the pressure of a Spirit Transformation Realm martial artist from above, Ye Zhen's fingers trembled and he slowly straightened his back.
Above Ye Zhen, a hundred meters away, a handsome young man with sword-like eyebrows and starry eyes, but with a large black mole on his chin, was staring at Ye Zhen coldly, showing undisguised contempt.
"I thought you had gone to fight for the Golden Fragmented Swords. I didn't expect to miss out on such an opportunity to pick up the leftovers!" Ye Zhen said fearlessly with a smile, the Changfeng Sword in his right hand gently pointing upwards, assuming the initial stance of the Wind Cloud Sword Technique.
