The battle had endured for an indeterminate length of time.
Only when the smoky haze from the Outside began to settle did the fight at the Yu Family Ancestral Hall finally draw to its conclusion.
Whoosh!
With a mournful cry, the flying sword was riddled with cracks, and it burst mid-air, shattering into countless tiny fragments that scattered in all directions.
As the master of the flying sword, Yu Qing's face was pale as snow, devoid of any hint of color, and drops of fresh blood dripped from her wrist, painting blood plum blossoms upon her white skirt's hem.
No miracle happened.
Even with the support of the Ancestral Shrine behind her, Yu Qing, in the end, stood alone against many, struggling to withstand them.
"Yu Qing, step aside!"
"The outcome has been decided, there's no need for further sacrifice."
"You've already done enough, even Ancestor Yuan wouldn't blame you if he returned."
"Yu Qing, give up."
...
