Crack!.....
Thin cracks appeared on the protective shield.
A hint of excitement surfaced on the young man's face.
In just ten minutes, his full-force sword strikes had numbered in the thousands, and at last, the shield was broken.
The sword in his palm moved ever more swiftly, its brilliant starlight enveloping an area of a hundred meters.
The cracks continued to expand until they shattered completely.
Meanwhile, Qing Yi, entangled in the sky with an enterprising powerful adversary, had an added chill in her eyes.
"Since you all wish to die, so be it!"
She flipped her hand over, revealing an ancient, reddish mirror in her palm.
The mirror shone, its back carved with intricate patterns as Qing Yi's entire essence flowed into it.
A golden column of light, wrapped in crimson flames, collided with the silver brilliance that filled the sky.
"It's you! Qing Yi!"
The ancient mirror, a treasured artifact of the Yuan Yang sect, was highly recognizable.
