The headless corpse suddenly stiffened, then was blown over by the remnants of the fist wind.
"Taoist, yet...damned!"
Before the words were finished, there was a bang, with sparks flying everywhere!
The sword-browed youth's expression was horrified, his hands trembling greatly, and he staggered back seven or eight steps.
The surface of his spiritual artifact claws was already covered with deep sword marks, nearly completely destroyed.
At this moment, Zhao Sheng stood three zhang away, staring at him expressionlessly, playing with a Dragon Head Flying Sword about an inch long in his hand.
After giving him a fierce look, the sword-browed youth suddenly became silent, his body blurred, and in an instant returned to his original realm.
Zhao Sheng flipped his hand, put the Dragon Head Sword into his sleeve, then turned around, and after a few steps reached the edge of the street corner, though he did not leave the long street.
