Clang... Clang... Clang...
In the air, 36 swords, their edges gleaming, clashing incessantly.
The astonishing clangs, continuous, piercing to the extreme.
18 swords, with shiny ancient blades, exceptionally simple and honest.
18 swords, as cold as can be, encasing the sky in frost.
Xiao Yi stood with his hands behind his back, that trace of pride and uprightness on him, just like the unparalleled sword cultivator he once was.
He, Xiao Yi, though lost his cultivation, his primordial power, and all his martial arts.
But it did not mean Xiao Yi was no longer a sword cultivator or no longer a Fire Control Warrior.
His sword dao level, his sword dao realm, still remained.
Those extreme cold swords formed from soul power, they were indeed his hands.
Under the perfect control of soul power, each sword was under his absolute control.
Soul Thought Technique, a Soul Master Skill left by the Ice Venerable, he had already comprehended it fully, mastering it to such an extent.
