The space within a thousand miles around the Desolate Sand Sea was completely frozen at this moment.
The shriek of the White Tiger Demon Lord still echoed in this space, like a beast about to be slaughtered, filled with an unbelievable terror.
Its attack, capable of killing a Daoist Monarch at peak strength, was shattered in an instant under Jiang Shu's seemingly ordinary punch, along with one of its arms silently reduced to dust.
This simple punch not only shattered the White Tiger's attack but also tore apart its courage.
Its blood-red vertical pupils suddenly constricted, reflecting the figure in a cyan cloud-patterned Daoist robe, whose aura was calm and serene, eyes as deep as the abyss, yet the absolute control of power exuded by the figure made the White Tiger's soul tremble more than any overwhelming aggression.
