At that moment, he cleaved through the dark curtain with his sword, allowing light to reclaim the sky. He was a master of the Sword Dao, an invincible warrior on this path. He raised his Flying Sword, wary of the two mighty adversaries.
When the light returned, he was instantly horrified. Of his five-hundred-thousand-strong army, nothing remained but shattered armor; not even a single skeleton was left behind. It had been no more than two hours in total. Now, all of his men had perished, devoured by these ominous creatures that had burrowed into the earth and vanished without a trace.
"No!" the Main God of Spirit cried out, his heart aching as it never had before. In such a short time, his grand army was gone. The sight filled him with unspeakable sorrow and boundless hatred.
He roared, "I will have you dead!"
"Flying Sword Breaking Sky!"
