The flames inside the ancestral hall still burned, yet the temperature between heaven and earth dropped.
Zhao Douan took a deep breath, tightly gripping the handle of the Chasing Saber in his hand, and looked towards the back of the priestess ahead: "Yu Xiu Daoist..."
Her entire being seemed like a faded old painting battered by wind and rain for a year. Yu Xiu started coughing, covering her mouth with her hand, a pool of crimson blood appearing in her palm, yet her tone remained resolute: "I can handle this."
Curse—
Undoubtedly, it is an utterly unreasonable force. Back on the summit of Luo Mountain, even Xu Zhenguan, who was comparable to the Heavenly Human Realm, was successfully curse killed by the White Clothes Sect. The Emperor Star dimmed, fortune declined, let alone Yu Xiu?
The magicians of the White Clothes Sect fully interpreted the meaning of "Defeating you doesn't require me to become stronger, only to weaken the opponent."
