Xu Wuyi watched the ten sword shadows flying toward him, his expression tranquil.
He slowly raised his left hand, palm up.
A ball of dark golden flame ignited in his palm, silent and still.
The flame was no bigger than a fist, but within it, the faint phantom of a three-legged Divine Bird soared, radiating a scorching and magnificent will.
"Golden Crow Carrying the Earth, fire to guard the eight directions."
Xu Wuyi murmured, pushing his left hand forward.
The dark golden flame instantly spread, forming a thin curtain of fire that shielded him.
The curtain of fire looked fragile, as if it would shatter at the slightest touch.
But the moment the ten faint gray sword shadows struck the curtain of fire—
"HISSSSSS—"
Like water poured into hot oil, the ten sword shadows trembled violently as their edges melted and disintegrated at a rate visible to the naked eye.
In just two seconds, all ten sword shadows had vanished.
The curtain of fire remained, without so much as a ripple.
