With a “clang,” the two swords collided, golden light intertwining with black sword qi. The elder felt a numbness in his arm, unexpectedly forced back two steps, his tiger’s mouth faintly aching.
The elder on the left, seeing this, immediately swung his sword forward, coordinating with the elder on the right. The two long swords, like two venomous snakes, attacked Chen Ping from left and right.
Their swordsmanship was exquisite and unparalleled, with perfect coordination. The sword qi crisscrossed, forming an impenetrable sword net that firmly enveloped Chen Ping, giving him no chance to breathe.
Chen Ping was not afraid at all. The Dragon-Slaying Sword in his hand seemed to come alive, sometimes slashing horizontally, sometimes chopping vertically, sometimes thrusting. The golden sword light constantly collided with the black sword qi, producing deafening sounds.
Relying on his agile body techniques, he shuttled through the sword net, seeking opportunities to counterattack.
Once, the right elder’s long sword thrust towards his chest. Chen Ping sidestepped to avoid it, simultaneously slashing towards the elder’s wrist. The elder hurriedly withdrew his sword to block, but Chen Ping seized the opening and kicked him in the chest. The elder staggered back several steps.
Wu Hao took the opportunity to charge towards the Soul-Devouring Venerable, swinging his long sword. Golden spiritual power condensed into a huge sword shadow, carrying a momentum that could destroy heaven and earth, slashing towards the Soul-Devouring Venerable.
The Soul-Devouring Venerable, sitting on the back of a majestic lion, sneered disdainfully. With a wave of his right hand, a black demonic qi condensed into a thick shield, blocking in front.
With a “bang,” the sword shadow collided with the shield, shattering instantly. Wu Hao was shaken back several steps by the powerful recoil, his qi and blood surging, a sweetness in his throat.
“With just this much ability, you dare to come kill this seat?” the Soul-Devouring Venerable mocked, waving his long sword. A black sword qi shot like a venomous snake towards Wu Hao’s abdomen.
Wu Hao hurriedly sidestepped to dodge. The sword qi grazed his battle robe, tearing a long gash and revealing the armour underneath.
Wuji Daoist wanted to go forward to assist but was tightly entangled by the left elder.
The elder’s swordsmanship was cunning and ruthless, every sword attacking Wuji Daoist’s vital points, making it impossible for him to break free.
He watched Wu Hao in peril, extremely anxious in his heart, yet helpless.
On the other side of the battlefield, Xue Wuying did not join the battle but stood on a high ground, holding a black cloth bag in his hand.
The bag looked ordinary, yet it emitted a strange suction force.
He watched the constantly falling cultivators, a flash of excitement in his eyes. Whenever a cultivator died, at the moment the soul left the body, he would raise the bag, muttering incantations.
Those cultivators’ departed souls, as if summoned, flew towards the bag one after another, being sucked into it.
As more and more departed souls were sucked in, the bag gradually swelled, emitting increasingly dense black mist.
“Xue Wuying, what are you doing? Hurry up and come help!”
The Soul-Devouring Venerable, seeing Xue Wuying standing by with arms folded, angrily shouted.
“Lord, please wait a moment!”
Xue Wuying said without turning his head, his hands not stopping at all.
The Soul-Devouring Venerable snorted coldly, no longer paying attention to him, focusing on dealing with Wu Hao.
Although Wu Hao’s strength was not weak, compared to the Soul-Devouring Venerable who had lived for ten thousand years, he was still a level below.
After several rounds, Wu Hao was already struggling to cope, with several wounds added to his body, blood staining his battle robe red, and his spiritual power consumed by more than half.
Time passed bit by bit, the melee becoming increasingly tragic.
The cultivators of the human and beast races suffered more and more casualties. The imperial guard formation had long been scattered by the demonic souls, the soldiers fighting individually, constantly falling.
Han Lie and Zi Yuan were already exhausted, their spiritual power almost depleted, only able to wield their weapons by instinct to resist. Their bodies were covered in wounds, blood dripping along the weapons, forming pools of blood on the ground.
