This moment.
Venerable Fuhu was even more confused. He never expected that his White Tiger Mount would pull such a trick while he was running away.
It was just a moment's gap.
Xuanqing made his move.
"Bald donkey, die!"
Whisk in hand transformed into a sky full of willow strands, covering the entire space, and the bone-chilling National Destiny Power was even more terrifying for the cultivators.
"No..."
Fuhu Luohan roared, but no matter how loud the sound, he couldn't block the arrival of the whisk, which struck him directly in the face.
In an instant.
A tragic scene like Mo Ke Jiedi's, happened to Fuhu Luohan.
Flesh blurred, blood pouring, and even more terrifying, every wound contained the power of Black Wind Country's national destiny.
Cultivation... started to decline.
Fuhu Luohan's heart and soul shattered, not caring about escaping, and all the Buddha Power on his body poured into the wounds to suppress this strength.
However.
