The Demon Blade opened its vertical pupils one by one, immobilizing the eighteen men and women in Taoist robes around it.
"Die," Song Qingyun declared.
The long blade spun, slashing out a sharpness that extended hundreds of meters.
All eighteen members of the Ouyang Family perished!
Song Qingyun stood in the high sky, bursting into a triumphant and long laughter:
"What's this, so the Ouyang Family doesn't have a Divine Spirit following them after all, seems like the news was locked down too tightly, in reality, they were already finished."
"Daring to show your faces? Ridiculous!"
The Demon Blade was raised high—
On the other side of the camera, Song Yinchen stood alone in midair, her expression sorrowful, softly sobbing.
One breath.
Two breaths.
She wiped her tears away and suddenly picked up the mobile phone hanging in front of her chest, clicked to play a video, and watched it intently.
"His method really is good."
"I recorded everything that just happened."
