2050 The Disdainful Clone

"The Hall of Gods, huh?" Zhang Xuan immediately identified his assailants.

The disconcerting killing intent and the sharp precision that seemed as if it had been carefully measured with a ruler, these were traits that were unique to the sword practitioners of the Hall of Gods.

More importantly, the angle, positioning, and attack timing that they had coordinated with one another were truly sharp, such that even Semi-Divinity realm experts would find it hard to avoid their offense. The only ones he could think of that were capable of such a feat were those from the Hall of Gods.

"Only two Heavenly High Immortals, eh?" Zhang Xuan heaved a sigh of relief.

Ten days ago, he would have been completely helpless against such a line-up, but to the current him, they were no longer a problem for him to deal with anymore.