Ye Fengsheng held a Black Sword in his hand, the hilt embedded with fierce gold, as if someone was sketching. Golden lines appeared on the sword's black body, flourishing like branches and leaves, blossoms vibrant and vivid.
The sword's blade trembled slightly, bathed in golden light. No matter how thunder flashed in the sky, the golden light remained brilliant as ever, especially since Ye Fengsheng wielded the precious sword.
Due to the slight movement of his palm, countless golden petals bloomed around the leaves.
"Strong."
Like a complete beast, the sword with a dark body emitted a magnificent glow. Before the leaves and phoenix could raise their hands, the blade suddenly quivered, tracing a golden petal in the air. The tip pointed straight at the sky, as if praying to the heavens, condemning their injustice.
