"Assassin!" As a cultivator, the still-crying Song Weiyin had already clearly sensed the sudden eruption of True Yuan, but because she'd been heartbroken to the point of losing her senses, she hadn't noticed any of it at all, and it was already too late for her to dodge.
"I'm gonna die!"
Right at the instant she realized this in horror—
Poof!
A head and a spray of blood shot through the air.
Clang.
The Flying Sword that hit the ground bounced to a stop in front of Song Weiyin.
Song Weiyin's eyes were blank. She tilted her head slightly and saw, coming from behind her on the left, a pair of slender, straight, gorgeous legs in neat little black combat boots—basically the legs of a young woman.
"I thought I could perfectly finish that bastard Shen Qiang's assignment without even needing to make a move. Didn't expect it to end up just wishful thinking."
