The mountain shuddered, sending rocks tumbling down from its face and crashing to the ground, and stirring up dust that obscured Mountain Man Yanzhi's figure.
After some time, the dust finally settled. The mountain had clearly shrunk, but it still towered over the dark grassland. It had not toppled.
The mountain was still a mountain.
At this sight, a hint of disappointment finally appeared on Xu Yourong's face.
"The Holy Maiden's methods truly are extraordinary.”
Mountain Man Yanzhi's voice was still deep, but the careful listener might be able to notice that it was slightly trembling, concealing a hint of anger.
Xiao Zhang used his spear to help his tired body stand.
The white paper flapped in the wind, the black holes incredibly dark and serene.
"Again."
He spoke in his raspy voice, apparently not caring about the current situation.
Chen Changsheng said nothing.
Several li away, the storm of swords prepared to return.
