Chapter 711: The God of Death, Bai Qi

Of the bronze-headed and iron-browed ghosts who fled to the Gate of the City of the Wrongfully Dead, only sixteen remain.

One of them spoke harshly and was sliced in two by Xiao Yu's sword.

The remaining ghosts were pinned to the ground by Xiao Yu's sword qi.

The sword qi of an ordinary martial artist is ethereal, like a gentle breeze, unable even to break the skin of a common person.

At Xiao Yu's realm, all internal strength has transformed into "immortal qi," and the sword qi she unleashes is infused with sword intent, becoming as alive as a sentient being.

At the level of cosmic rules

"First, Mo Wan does not believe the Prince has done anything wrong; second, Mo Wan did not leave out of pique," Mo Wan corrected seriously.

"Because at that time… I also found it strange—I couldn't resist the pull of your body, yet I refused to admit it aloud," Huangfu Ye said.

"If Ah Peng believes he can alter the unfavorable battlefield situation, he must have a clear plan!" Wang Tianyi understood the Princess Duo Lin's words—she had long known her fiancé's strength.

"Yan Nansheng, my tolerance has limits. You dare flirt with my Crown Princess right before my eyes—is this not excessive!" Facing Yan Nansheng's beauty, Chu Mobei felt his confidence waning.

Some of the onlooker mercenaries thought the same, and soon, visibly, several mercenaries left, taking with them a lifetime's savings of silver and valuables.

Mainly because every single thing in this courtyard is tied to Yun Feiyang—even the plaque over the gate was carved by his own hand.

"Then that's best. Since you've been seen, Mo Wan will take her leave. This day has been exhausting." Yao Mo Wan rose gracefully, heading toward the inner chamber.

No wonder, Li Yan thought—if this method were used, one could train endlessly within a single day, never feeling fatigue.

Though he had not charged forward, his bloodthirsty gaze was ferocious beyond measure; if a gaze alone could kill, Lin Fan would have died dozens of times over by now.

His silence stemmed from the fact that last time, he had taken a wrong path here, failing to reach Aiwanting and instead descending the mountain directly.

Mu Yuncheng feared his threats—he had already been slashed by him once, blindly stumbling near the gates of the Netherworld. Now he roared at him again; Mu Yuncheng feared he might act rashly, so he fell silent and lay back down.

Where then is the dignity of the Heavenly Emperor, who rules over the countless primordial gods of Lingxiao Palace and the Thirty-Three Celestial Realms?

Since becoming Sword Saint, his unchanging solemnity of ten thousand years shattered at this moment. His twitching lips held not only resentment but hatred—all directed inward; his tears, surely, were filled with regret.

He roared loudly, swinging his butcher's knife with fierce momentum, slashing wildly at Wang Yuankui—his technique was astonishingly skilled. Those watching below trembled in fear.

Reporters jostled chaotically around Yi Yang, leaving him unsure which question to answer.

Soon she emerged—slender, graceful figure, fair and luminous skin, soft long hair cascading freely, understated yet not ordinary, demure yet unobtrusive; she herself was very satisfied.

The dragon is a divine beast, ever-changing, symbolizing how emperors skillfully manage state affairs and instruct their people.

Almost everyone's attention was on Novitski's swinging fists, but Weignali remembered—adding this one, Yi Yang now had 11 points and 8 assists. The Dallas No. 1 was now within reach of his first NBA double-double.

"Business?" Yi Yang turned curiously—what could a game developer and a sports star possibly discuss about business?

A battle at the Great Star Sovereign level is no joke—once unleashed, it will utterly annihilate heaven and earth.