Lin Daoyuan's eyes were like swords, and the aura around him grew increasingly sharp, resembling an unsheathed sword, releasing his own Sword Intent and sharpness freely.
"Unpredictable Ghost Sect, truly a bunch of rats who only know how to plot and scheme!"
The momentum of the sword changed again, turning the sky full of sword beams into a storm of pear blossom petals, each "petal" adorned with tiny Spiritual Energy Vortices, seemingly about to shred Zhang Mo in the storm of Sword Intent.
This was a magnificent scene of wind and snow, white pear blossoms drifting in the air, seemingly slow, yet incomparably sharp.
The wind blew gently, and the snow fell slowly.
The glaze tiles on the palace roofs made a puffing sound, and clouds of dust rose from the palace buildings.
Blood flowers bloomed on the Ghost Soldiers and Blood Puppets, turning the elegant wind and snow into something bewitching.
And above the wind and snow, a bright moon was rising slowly.
