Draw the sword!
Sheath the sword!
The sky full of Divine Dragon Phantoms suddenly disappeared, and the figure in a purple robe landed lightly on the platform like a butterfly.
Pugh!
Blood mixed with white brain matter gushed out from Zheng Qingshan's forehead.
His eyes were vacant, and his body wobbled as he looked at Su Wanyi on the opposite side in disbelief.
Clang...
The sword in his hand slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground in this moment.
Zheng Qingshan gave a bitter smile: "How are you... so strong?"
"Not too bad."
Su Wanyi gently turned, leaving Zheng Qingshan with a faint, graceful silhouette.
"Disaster comes from the mouth, sigh, I shouldn't have..."
Before he could finish, he spat out a mouthful of blood, then his body fell stiffly onto the platform.
At this moment, Zheng Qingshan finally realized the cause of his death.
