Above the heavens.
The blood-red Fortune Blade has become incredibly thin.
Slaying the Golden Dragon of Luck consumes vast amounts of energy, and given Zhang Sanfeng's current cultivation, he can at most wield seven swords.
Emperor Tian looked up at the blood-red Fortune Blade, saying nothing.
The powerful figures of the myriad worlds stared intently at the Literary Realm, silent.
The entire myriad worlds seemed to have lost their voice at this moment.
Within the Great Profound Sky world, Zhang Sanfeng was drenched in sweat, looking at the wailing and struggling Golden Dragon of Luck with a solemn expression, preparing to deliver the final strike.
If possible, he wanted to sever the dragon's head!
Yet the Fortune of the Literary Realm, comparable to a Destiny Dynasty, even with the Fortune of Heavenly Court reversing the Destiny Dynasty's luck, is something even a ninth-level Fate Master could not achieve.
"This strike, sever the dragon horn!"
