Fang Han drew his sword.
A body fell to the ground.
And with that, all six Stewards of the Netherworld Pavilion were dead.
Only a brief moment had passed from the time Fang Han attacked to the annihilation of all six Stewards.
The Netherworld Pavilion disciples had already scattered and fled the moment the Stewards ordered a retreat.
But could they escape?
Fang Han's gaze swept over the black-clad figures fleeing in all directions, and he moved again.
He didn't give chase. Instead, he simply raised his right hand and swung the Cloud Splitting Sword through the air.
A condensed azure stream of Sword Qi shot through the air. Though launched second, it arrived first, instantly catching up to the three Netherworld Pavilion disciples at the head of the retreat.
"PFFT! PFFT! PFFT!"
Three dull thuds sounded out almost simultaneously.
The three Netherworld Pavilion disciples fell to the ground, each with a deep sword gash on their back.
"WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!"
