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Paragon of Sin

The Heavenly Dao exists. It decides what is right and what is wrong. To act against it is to sin, to act according to it is to be blessed by its graces. The world of cultivation is difficult, an unchanging principle. Yet there are those who are cherished by the Heavens, cuddled into rising above all and everyone else. How can this be? Why must this be? What is moral and just? What is evil and immoral?! WHY DOES IT GET TO DECIDE?! So we, the Sinners, we act against the Heavenly Daos, grasp our own fates in hopes of truly overturning them. This is a Journey of a young boy born Blessed, but turned Sinner. The greatest sinner of them all. ----- As some of you may know, I'm also the Author of Consuming Earths, Devouring Skies! This is my second project, and one I'm incredibly passionate about! I hope you all enjoy following the adventures of Wei Wuyin! And I hope that I can bring a fresh experience to you all. ---- Follow for Updates: https://twitter.com/KevinAscending Here's Discord if you just want to chat or meet some like-minded individuals! https://discord.gg/kevinascending If you want to support my novel, to increase the ratio of releases, or to receive monthly bonus releases! You can support here: https://www.patreon.com/KevinAscending https://ko-fi.com/kevinascending paypal.me/KevinJpl Or @Kevinjpl Any and all support goes to supporting me and my right to write!

KevinAscending · Eastern
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1732 Chs

Chapter 429: The Hunting of Qing Qiumu

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Shiing!

Boosh!!

In a location of The Desolate Lands, within its eastern region, chaotic sounds of sweeping blades, explosive eruptions, and sword howls resounded out ceaselessly. These sounds were followed by grunts and exclamations of pain, the hallowed and exhausted breathing of experts.

Swoosh!

An emerald-colored haired beauty with a blank mask covering the lower half of her face soared through the sky, skidding across the ground from time to time. Her slender figure was wrapped by grey-cloth that emanated faint light, and this light pushed away the desolate power that lingered within the air.

She was surrounded by nine soaring blades. They twisted and turned, clashing with incoming bursts of astral force and other armaments. These armaments were held by a pursuing force of cultivators that were dressed in a mishmash of outfits. Their lack of unified dressing betrayed their disorganized and hasty assembly.