Chapter 453: Fate Star Material! Buried Sword Blood Gold!

“Bang!”

The first sword wall shattered outright.

Immediately after, the second, third, fourth…

Five or six sword walls in a row, as if made of paper, shattered at the slightest touch.

Just as Feng Geng thought all twelve sword walls would shatter in sequence, the explosions of sword qi suddenly weakened drastically when they reached about seven or eight walls, as if encountering some unseen resistance.

Yue Chu tried to sit up; Jiang Sheng saw this and rose to help her, but before he could move, Yue Chu had already sat up, leaning back and letting out a long sigh.

Amidst a sea of white, beside crimson pillars, he wore black robes, his face cold and stern, eyes deep and unreadable—already bearing the chill and inaccessibility of an imperial monarch.

Lu Shiyu gazed at her on the screen, his dark eyes soft with tender affection, his heart long since melted into water.

For Finn’s words, Rivelia merely paused briefly, then gave a slight nod.

While still in midair, the sword qi clinging to the Yuewang Sword erupted—not the spiritual power from Chen Qi’s body, but the spiritual power within the Yuewang Sword itself.

Wen Shang came to her voluntarily? That was truly surprising and exciting—had Wen Shang grown tired of Yue Chu?

But after fleeing only a short while, the bald fat man, after devouring several people, seemed to summon them back, drawing others to return.

Xu Jiao’s face turned pale with rage; she opened her mouth to speak, but saw the person ordering the spicy hot pot walk away directly.

Since Chen Qi joined the Special Affairs Bureau, he had proven his strength many times, each instance more astonishing than the last.

“You’re a man—eating so little won’t do. Don’t you understand what it means to be masculine?” Yun Chi shoved another meat strip into his hand.

He had no regrets about making the ten-year pact with Xuan Yuan Huihuang, but he didn’t know how to cultivate so that, within ten years, he could match the man’s level.

Some men picked up sickles and hoes, standing guard in the village, ready to fight the bandits to the death.

In truth, the dragon serpent had indeed been like this before—this was all derived from analysis of dragon blood, and it was, in fact, the dragon species’ combat method.

Precisely because of this, Jiang Ruyun refused to believe that Murong Yingxue was practicing such martial arts.

Sometimes Zhong Jin wondered: if he hadn’t been so stubborn back then, so fixated on making Wan’er his wife, Wan’er’s life today would have been entirely different.

The ghost was born in Tibet and raised among icy mountains; this was his first time in Xiamen, and he praised it endlessly, deeply fond of it—but urgent matters prevented him from fully savoring its atmosphere.

The screams lasted one or two breaths, then vanished; the beam disappeared too, revealing Cui Yuan within.

As for Tao Ruo, Yun Yu cherished her deeply, treating her as his own sister; he knew well of her constitution, for their hearts were in perfect harmony.

After the blood mist fully dispersed, the figure’s face was clearly revealed—it was Xia Mingfeng. The purple-red light emanated from his body, his eyes glowed silver-gray; he glanced at his enormous form, his face brightened with delight, then charged toward the two Elders of the Blood Demon Sect.

The only reason his life-linked magic treasure remained unresponsive to the call was this strange green glowing orb.

Journalists hiding in other wards and the fire escapes upstairs and downstairs, hearing the scene here had spiraled out of control and seeing the police powerless to contain it, all rushed forward with impunity.

In her dream, she saw that man again—still faceless—speaking slowly, word by word, to Zhao Xiaozhi, who lay half-reclined on the sofa.

Thus, every member of the Wood Spirit Clan held their breath, hearts pounding with intense anticipation, waiting for the outcome.