Hiss hiss hiss!
Suddenly, from among the disciples, came ear-piercing sounds, like a carriage tire leaking air.
The Taoist with scars on his face clutched his throat tightly, his eyes staring dead ahead, almost popping out of his head.
From the back of his throat, half a snow-bright sword edge protruded.
Blue points of light flashed on that sword edge, flying about like fireflies.
Not just the scar-faced Taoist, but several other fiercely shouting disciples met the same grim fate.
Their throats were pierced unexpectedly by the sword edge, cutting their vocal cords and throats, unable to even scream.
Faced with such a bizarre scene, everyone quickly turned around.
They observed their surroundings anxiously, as if they had suddenly seen a ghost.
At this moment, Liu Chan's calm voice reached each person's ears.
"With the Qing Xu Sword in my hand, I am the next Sect Master of the Ten Thousand Sword Sect. Who else is unconvinced?"
