In the face of the overwhelming dark purple brilliance that blotted out the sky, Nan Xuan leaped into action, soaring towards Jian Wushuang.
His Mystic Garb of the Nine Heavens, though already somewhat tattered, still emitted a brilliant azure light, untarnished and immaculate.
At the back of his robe, a fist-sized crack had formed, perfectly matching the sword scar on his chest.
"Little Friend, let me help you." Nan Xuan leaped over with a smile on his face.
Jian Wushuang was taken aback; he hadn't expected Nan Xuan to arrive. "Why have you come? Didn't I ask you all to leave quickly?"
Nan Xuan smiled, "Leaving would be too boring. I also want to see what kind of entity this fellow truly is!"
Jian Wushuang knew Nan Xuan's unyielding character; he couldn't be dissuaded. He could only remain silent.
