Then they saw the Mo Blade tilt slightly in the Blade Madman's right hand, and for some reason, in that instant, they could see the fear on the martial artist's face, the subtle trembling of the muscles.
They saw the blue, cold light on the blade, devoid of luster.
The slowness of time was nothing but an illusion; the sharp, fierce sound of the blade's cry soared to the sky. As the Blade Madman unleashed his blade technique, his Qi mechanism erupted, as if possessed, enveloping all the martial artists rushing onto the stage.
Wang Anfeng's mind gradually became one, as if stepping on a beam of light, almost instinctively, he abandoned the Mixed Yuan Body of Pharmacist Valley, the martial arts of the Divine Thieves Sect, and the Tai Chi Martial Arts he previously used.
Except for the Shaolin Golden Bell Shield and the Buddha's Strength Mountain Moving Sutra.
His breathing was long and deep.
His eyes were calm, gazing flatly at the sky, the earth, and all beings.
