The attack came with overwhelming ferocity.
The defense was watertight.
That blue sphere of light seemed to tear through the air, carrying a drawn-out, ancient murmur as if transmitted from antiquity, carrying the roar of a frenzied beast, carrying the thunderous boom of heaven-shaking lightning, blazing brilliantly as it rapidly shot before Feng Jiuge.
What a powerful aura!
To recover to such an extent in a single night—just how powerful could this man be!
Feng Jiuge focused her mind and calmed her spirit, the knuckles of her hands gripping the saber hilt turning faintly white.
Her eyes never left the rapidly approaching sphere for an instant. She chose the optimal moment and leaped into the air. Her suddenly soaring body resembled an object violently flung upward by an external force. At the same time she reached the highest point, the killing intent of Zhuhun's blade abruptly skyrocketed, reaching its extreme in an instant.
A single slash descended.
Clean and decisive, without the slightest deviation in timing.
That blue sphere seemed to have its core instantly destroyed. Starting from the blade wound, cracks spread like wildly growing weeds. In moments, they enveloped the entire sphere, then with a gust of wind, it shattered into a heap of fine dust.
Damn it!
Feng Jiuge had no time to rejoice before she saw the fragments of the shattered sphere gradually reassembling into tens of thousands of basketball-sized blue spheres, like stars floating in the vast firmament, occupying all the surrounding space.
Yun Aotian stood opposite her, his eyes as sharp as a falcon's watching her indifferently, as though looking at an ant: "Hand over the ring."
"Who cares!" Feng Jiuge snorted coldly, reaching out to remove that sapphire-blue ring. But she had only removed it halfway when she felt her waist tighten, as if bound by something.
She froze, looked up, and saw a blue whip extending from Yun Aotian's hand, its tip wrapped precisely around her waist.
"I was just about to return it to you!" Before her tone of anger could even rise, she felt the whip in Yun Aotian's hand violently retract. Feng Jiuge's body was completely beyond her control, instantly arriving at his side.
Zhuhun seemed to have caught the scent of prey, its blade faintly ringing, clamoring to have a taste of the enemy's blood.
However, when Feng Jiuge looked at where she had been standing, she saw that at some point it had been replaced by nine black-clad men. All her fury and arrogance was instantly suppressed.
Purple aura churned, and the color of that stretch of sky seemed to turn into a strange, dark red.
Purple battle qi experts—the same as yesterday.
Could she say right now that she was just passing by?
She glanced sideways at the man beside her. His entire being surged with arrogant, domineering aura; his body was like an inexhaustible spring of power, continuously surging forth with blue flames, enveloping both of them within.
But from this close distance, one could clearly see that knife-carved, resolute face, pale to the point of not seeming alive.
His black robes fluttered in the wind, the bearing of a king radiating outward, so intimidating that the nine surrounding black-clad men hesitated to take another step closer.
He let out a cold laugh and spoke in a severe voice: "Has the Holy Palace run out of people? Di Xiu sent you third-rate trash to claim this venerable one's life—how ridiculously overconfident!"
Third-rate trash?
Nine experts of the Purple Venerate level were merely third-rate trash in this man's eyes! One had to know that any single Purple Venerate appearing on the Lin Yuan Continent would absolutely be a figure whose stomp made the world tremble thrice! Since when had Purple Venerates become so worthless?
While she was still in shock, one of the black-clad men opposite let out a sinister laugh and spoke: "Heh—a cripple who can't even summon Punishment Lightning. We third-rate trash are already enough."