WHOOOOOOSH—SHING!
Above the nine peaks of Mount Azure, the sky had turned into a meat grinder made of ten thousand howling blades.
Driven by Sect Master Ling Xiao’s Rank 5 Peak blood essence and the thousand-year grudge of the Sacred Sword Tomb, the ten thousand ancient spirit swords spun in a mile-wide funnel cloud. Every time the tip of the funnel dipped toward the mountain cliffs, solid granite boulders were shaved into smooth stone powder in half a second!
Up on the blood-stained altar of the Sword Tomb, Sect Master Ling Xiao stood with his arms spread wide, his white hair whipping around his pale face as he laughed wildly at the sky.
“Tremble, you mud-digging ants!” Ling Xiao shouted, his voice booming through the metallic roar of the sword hurricane. “During the battle at the border two months ago, First Elder Jian Wuchen only lost because his three thousand living disciples were scared of pain and dropped their concentration! But these ten thousand ancestor swords have no living owners! They know no fear! They feel no hunger! And their ancient sword-spirits are bound directly to the iron veins of Mount Azure!”
Beside the cliff terrace, Second Elder Gu and the other seven Sword Elders cheered as color finally returned to their sunken cheeks.
