A single word's might, as heavy as a thousand pounds!
An invisible pressure descended like a tidal wave. Fang Yuanxin couldn't control his body's trembling, his legs gave way and he knelt on the ground, sweat soaking through his patched Tang suit.
His chest was filled with astonishment as he stared in shock at the white-robed girl on the altar.
What a powerful force of words!
Legend has it that a true master of words can bestow life with a single word or bring about death with another.
Life and death all controlled within the shallow power of words!
No wonder the Heavenly Dao forbids her existence; someone like Bai Chuwei is simply defying the heavens.
Bai Chuwei's fingers, tender as white jade spring onions, gently caressed the altar, and a trace of nostalgia flashed unconsciously in her eyes.
In the era of ancient gods, rituals were significant and solemn events. There were no fewer than nine altars!
