Yue Qingchen stood frozen in the night sky, like a statue that had lost its soul.
Her eyes were wide open, and the terror in them surged like a flood, nearly drowning her.
Every breath became rapid and heavy, as if an invisible pair of giant hands was tightly gripping her throat.
She tried to find a reasonable explanation in her mind, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't comprehend the scene before her that defied logic.
At the peak of the Immortal King Realm, she had spent countless years in cultivation, and her power had always been her pride, her reliance in traversing the heavens and the earth.
But now, everything seemed as fragile as bubbles in front of Xu Wendong in the Heavenly Immortal Realm.
She recalled the confidence she felt when she swung that sword, the certainty with which she unleashed those nine spiritual power vortices — now these memories were like sharp blades, piercing painfully into her heart.
