50,000 Miles, One Sword Breaks 100,000 Formations

"It's the Puppet Daoist from Guanyue City!"

"The Daoist hasn't presented his play for three days."

Around them, the onlooking cultivators whispered or conveyed messages through divine thoughts.

The black-robed cultivator, who was being pointed at by Han Muye's long sword, had a changing expression on his face but eventually snorted coldly, "Today, I, as a humble Daoist, am only here on someone's behalf. Why must you push me so aggressively?"

With that, he moved and retreated.

No one was really willing to die.

For example, this Puppet Daoist.

His cultivation and combat power were not stronger than Mu Wusheng's.

If Mu Wusheng was slain by one sword, he wouldn't fare any better.

So, the display of power he showed just now was merely a facade, easily broken by Han Muye's sword.

At this moment, with Han Muye pointing his sword at him, he had no intention of fighting and instead retreated.