Mo Shentian grimaced as his technique clashed with Zhang Fei's golden sword. He had tried to use his abilities to bend reality, but his efforts were shattered once again.
Having lived for so long and reached the pinnacle of the demon race, Mo Shentian never expected to encounter a solid, tall wall blocking his path. Moreover, the wall was in the form of a young cultivator much younger than his own children, yet he could make him lose his mind and feel helpless.
Just as Mo Shentian was contemplating another solution to turn the tide of their battle, those mythical figures darted toward him one by one, followed by all those elemental swords.
"Damn it! Am I really going to die today?"
Mo Shentian gritted his teeth and released more strength to block all of Zhang Fei's attacks, but flurries of petals suddenly appeared in the area around him and shot straight at him.
"No hope!"
