"Clang!"
The crisp metallic collision sound was fierce and violent, echoing through the entire camp.
The flying sword, which was in rapid flight, seemed to have been hit like a golf ball spinning at high speed on a clubhead, and suddenly changed direction, falling heavily from the sky and directly piercing the ground.
The color on the face of Zhou Wuyuan, who was controlling the sword, turned paper-white, and a trace of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
There was a connection of heart and mind between the flying sword and the cultivator controlling it. Lin Chen's strike was like a heavy hammer dealing mental damage to Zhou Wuyuan. The chaotic spiritual energy surge almost collapsed in an instant.
Zhou Wuyuan let out a muffled grunt, forcibly steadied his mind, pointed his sword, and tried to manipulate the flying sword again.
