Xiao Yi stood suspended in the air, seizing one of the flying swords that had been struck down by a blade of elemental energy.
His Fire Qilin Sword had already shattered.
He had no handy weapon at the moment.
With the flying sword in hand, he became one with the sword.
His body as the sword, the sword as his weapon.
"A Stroke That Surprises the Wind and Rain!"
Xiao Yi pointed forward slightly, and sword light surged around him, carrying the supreme sharpness of sword energy, transforming into a beam tens of meters long. This beam of sword light stood across the sky like a pillar holding up the heavens, its dazzling brilliance making it impossible for one to open their eyes. As Xiao Yi's gaze moved, the sword's edge swiftly shot out toward the spot he pointed at.
It was as if a pen that writes the universe of black and yellow descended upon the firmament.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
