Lu Xuanji drew his long saber and struck out.
The Nine-Colored Long Saber shimmered, operating the [Mysteries of the Celestial Blade]. With one stroke, life and death cycled, space-time ebbed and flowed, stars were born and perished, time moved forward, cause and effect altered, destruction and slaughter surged.
From drawing the blade to swinging it in an attack, the speed was extremely fast, performed in one seamless action, seemingly turned into instinct.
The long blade was incredibly sharp, cutting through everything in its path.
Bang! Bang!
The clash of blades carried no superfluous embellishments, only the simplest of hacks, a collision of raw power.
Yet the Golden Lion Ancestor silently exclaimed, "This is bad!"
Under this stroke, his magical power collapsed, as if a wooden blade was meeting a steel one.
The Mysteries were also crumbling, like a thousand miles swept away.
His arm went numb, almost instinctively wanting to retreat.
