In an instant, it was frozen into an ice sculpture, freezing the entire world into dead silence.
"Singing, singing and then appearing?"
This truly opened the eyes of the people in the five regions, even leading Saint Xin to tilt his head, watching the ghostly white face so close at hand with incredulity in his eyes.
Wen Ting...
Is this Wen Ting?
The Wen Ting of the Seven Sword Deity?
His mental state is indeed extraordinarily beautiful.
Clearly unlike an ancient swordsman, he resembles a consort banished to the cold palace for thirty years, having gone mad, singing opera day and night, oblivious to the world, utterly absorbed in his art.
"Scram!"
Saint Xin was furious, his God Devil Eyes nearly tearing apart.
An attack at such close range, charged for a long time without releasing into the void of Abyss Island, struck directly at Wen Ting's mind.
Sizzle!
Wen Ting vanished again, his form becoming nonexistent.
