Chapter 65: The Invitation

“So that’s how it is,” Lin Yu murmured with a sigh. Over twenty years ago, Bai Ling’s parents had served as servants in the Lin family. Because of matters related to the Lin family, they had all perished in that tragic incident, which was the link between her and Lin Yu.

Lin Yu hadn’t expected that there would be such intricate ties between himself and Bai Ling. He had subconsciously assumed that Bai Ling...

Being so mercilessly trampled underfoot by Feng Wuqing seemed almost comical, yet at this moment, not a single person could bring themselves to laugh.

When Wan Daihong heard the cultivator surnamed Pang praise that cup of clear tea so highly, he was thoroughly astonished.

This technique could temporarily create ten clones. With Xu Yang’s current cultivation, each clone could wield about thirty percent of his combat strength. If all ten attacked together, their combined might would instantly triple his offensive power.

Jiang Sen and Liu Bo’s eyes lit up. If they could truly kill Zhao Long, that would be wonderful.

“It seems my arrival has startled you, so unexpected that it caught you off guard.” Luo Changfeng gazed at the young master of the Imperial Alliance, a man of noble birth on par with his own senior brother, yet bound to Xue’er by a marriage contract with no origin or reason, and spoke with a cool indifference.

Just as Luofu shook his head and sneered, the dozen or so warships fleeing ahead suddenly ground to a halt. Then, turning about, they formed a line. In the void behind them, a temple radiating with seven-colored light appeared out of thin air.

A minute later, Zuo Jing took a deep breath, his eyes sweeping over Li Long with killing intent as he growled, “Let’s go.”

Rather than turning his back on this descendant of a spatial mage whose strength was unfathomable, it was better to gamble everything; that might leave a sliver of hope for survival.

After these two busy days, he would finally be able to study diligently under Master Zhang, striving for another breakthrough in the art of speed.

Clang! The blade struck the Star Tower, leaving a gash. The starlight on the tower dimmed, some of it extinguished by the blow.

He stared blankly at the ceiling above, dazed and devastated, clearly still reeling from the blow of his own defeat.

At this moment, his only choice was to drive the golden longsword deep into the Black Wind’s back. Though the sword was nearly shattered, it was his only way out.

With a smile as radiant as a flower, Yu Rong nodded to Shi Xiu. Shi Xiu’s heart fluttered, his blood surging with emotion. In that instant, it seemed the world contained only the two of them, and this fleeting moment was one of immeasurable happiness.

Xue Liang twisted his body with sudden force, unleashing a flurry of spear shadows that enveloped the vital points around Pan Feng.

Outside the Elven Divine Realm, all the elves worked in concert, forcing the great doors of the realm open a little wider. Yet no matter how hard they tried, they could not open them fully.

It was unclear whether it was Li Rong’s sharp tongue or his own careless attitude, but somehow, he found himself wandering backstage by accident.

Master Ma attacked without hesitation, driving his sword straight for Lu Li’s throat—a lethal, ruthless strike that left no doubt as to his true nature.

This private bodyguard was exceedingly confident in his abilities. Ever since he’d started following Lord Zuoshanshan, he had never lost a fight. All his skills had been tested and proven in countless real battles.

Next, a force of two hundred thousand soldiers unleashed a massacre. The Sui troops, whose strength had never been great, collapsed even further after their morale broke. They fell in droves, rivers of blood flowing, until only a handful surrendered from sheer terror. Even Qin Qiong and Cheng Yaojin, for their own reasons, submitted in the end.

Qi Xiao had thought that his words would put Li Lingyu in a difficult position, but to his surprise, Li Lingyu merely paused in thought.

Of course, he was alone in that; even Li Lianjie, impressive as he was, couldn’t compare—his daily faith power was only a hundred thousand or so, while others had even less. Someone like Deng Chao, for example, only managed a few thousand, and all of it first-tier.

“I’m not a burden to Uncle. I can do it.” In that instant, Tianming’s eyes snapped open. At some point, he had already drawn the Fei Gong blade, holding it in his hand. The yin-yang curse mark at the nape of his neck flickered, but Xunzi did not notice.