744 False Immortal’s Soul

One sword swept out, bones withered and souls perished!

The power of Time flowed out like a bright, dancing beam. In the blink of an eye, the cultivators who had been swept up by the fleeing black-robed Patriarch, were completely withered into nothing more than dust and smoke. Their bodies, their magical items, everything was rotted into nothing.

All of the onlookers couldn't help but be shaken deeply by the deaths.

People wanted to flee, but considering the level of the black-robed Patriarch's cultivation base, they were nothing more than ants. No matter how quickly they scattered, he still threw them back as obstacles. As the power of Time consumed them, the black-robed Patriarch fled. Finally he had just a bit of breathing room.

"Dammit! DAMMIT!" His face was ashen, and the shadow of death loomed heavily over him. It had been many, many years since he had experienced the feeling of a deadly chase like this.