The shadows of the swords lingered in the air for a moment, tightly bound together like countless crickets, ferociously slaughtering, darting towards the black-clad youth like lightning.
The sword emerged, its arrogant gray form flashing, killing yet another black-clad youth of the past.
A sigh!
A gentle voice came from behind, both arrogant and desolate, without turning back because they wondered about their appearance in death.
After resisting dozens of swords, a black-clad youth stood up to kill Ah Lu, only to be directly engulfed by other swords that immediately penetrated his body.
The shadow of the sword vanished in an instant, as if it had never appeared before. Perhaps it was a black-clad boy, but he seemed petrified at the scene, motionless.
As time passed, his body began to drain from the continuous flow of blood, and then with a crash, his standing body pulled him down.
At that moment, the other respected black-clad youths had already recovered their sanity.
