"Let's give it a try!"
Dong Huang walked up to the long sword. It was not a caprice but when she withdrew her hand from Feng Qing'an's chest, the palpitation lingering in her heart had vanished. Looking at this sword, she felt that maybe, just maybe, she could pull it out.
So, the Sovereign of Youhuang took the somewhat rough hilt. Without any resistance, she slightly lifted her arm, and pulled the long sword sunk into the bricks out. Holding it in her hand, plain and simple, it looked no different from a common sword you might find in a blacksmith's.
"Elder, are you still worried that I'll be backfired by the evil spirits?"
A smirk crept onto Dong Huang's face, evidently triumphant.
The sword, now held and wielded by her, undeniably represented a kind of recognition. She had made the right decision.
"Now, I want to see who under your command dare to jump in, only to become the dead soul under this sword!"
"Maybe not one will, I'm somewhat confident in my judgement."
