Black Cloud Mountain.
Deep within the mountain, in a spacious cavern, everything fell silent.
It seemed as if cold air was sweeping through.
The place was enveloped by a soul-chilling cold!
The present Wu Chuan, Fang Ping, and others were wide-eyed, staring fixedly beside Lin Tian.
To be precise.
They were fixated on the spinning flying sword!
The palm-sized flying sword, surrounded by flickering spiritual light, resembled Death's scythe.
This made Wu Chuan, Fang Ping, and the others feel their scalps prickling.
The faint, pervasive sharpness and killing intent emanating from the flying sword made them feel as though they were half a step away from death.
Especially.
At this moment, Lin Tian's face was grim, eyes aflame with fury, as if he intended to kill!
Gulp~
Standing farthest, Hua Donghuang finally couldn't help but swallow hard.
His hair stood on end, body slightly trembling.
Strong!
Too strong!
