"Buzz!"
The sword light shook, and the 32 pairs of sword light on the bluestone scattered, as if shattered directly.
The disciples of the Sword Pavilion around had complicated expressions, their mouths wide open, but they dared not even breathe.
Could it be that the treasured possession of their sect was destroyed like this?
Their cultivation was not enough, their vision was insufficient, and they couldn't see the significance of these colliding sword lights.
Qi Yu stared at the sword light, his heartstrings stretched tight, almost on the verge of snapping.
Han Muye's sword light, which had crossed 300,000 years, could actually compete with the sword light of the previous Sword Lord, and both were destroyed?
"Buzz!"
The sword light vibrated.
Han Muye narrowed his eyes and his gaze penetrated through time and space to face a black-haired Daoist in a light purple robe.
