A drop of bright red blood fell from the cheek, spreading like a dream within the mortal realm, transforming into the myriad emotions and desires of the human world.
Wei Zicheng was defeated on the path of Swordsmanship.
He was defeated in the higher inheritance of the Ten Thousand Laws Immortal Scripture, which indicated that the gap between his swordsmanship and his enemy's was tremendous. If they were to face each other with equal strength, he would undoubtedly die unless a miracle occurred.
"Fellow Daoist,"
"Your swordsmanship needs honing..."
In Jiang Ding's eyes, a faint trace of blood-red began to emerge.
The instinct of the Great Sun Swordsmanship had fully bloomed.
Today, there was no question of making friends through swordplay and stopping at the point; it would undoubtedly end with the death of one party, even if a True Immortal intervened!
No one could save the living being before him.
"Indeed so."
"Fellow Daoist,"
