"Die!"
Ye Ling bellowed furiously, unleashing a blade beam of white light that slashed down like a dragon, tearing through the air and carrying with it an astonishing sense of majesty.
"Swoosh!"
As the blade beam descended, a raging wind wrought havoc, a destructive force surged forward, sweeping everything before it into dust.
Where the fierce wind passed, it left a deep crater, and around the crater, fierce cracks spread out unceasingly.
Caught in the tempest, Ye Ling's body wobbled, eventually falling to the ground with a thud, his eyelids heavily drooping as he completely lost consciousness.
With that strike, Ye Ling had exhausted all of his strength, especially because he had been burning his soul power. His spirit was worn to the limit, and now all he desired was rest.
Even though Ye Ling's physical body lay unconscious, his consciousness seemed to drift into a profoundly mysterious state, as if floating into a strange world.
