CRACK!
A short golden dagger vibrated wildly in Bai Zichen's hand, but he held it in an iron grip, making it impossible for it to break free.
With a squeeze, the short blade shattered inch by inch. The cultivator opposite him suffered a backlash to his spiritual sense, and his face turned deathly pale.
He hastily cupped his hands in surrender and fled into the distance.
If he had kept fighting, the few Magical Treasures he had worked so hard to accumulate would have been mostly destroyed.
'Overwhelming an opponent with my physical body is a completely different feeling from defeating them with a Flying Sword. It gives me the illusion that the entire world is in the palm of my hand...'
Bai Zichen opened his palm. There wasn't a single red mark on it, as if he had just crushed a Magical Treasure made of clay.
