The bustling street suddenly fell silent, and the onlookers quickly dispersed, avoiding the center of the conflict.
"Everyone, it was Li Shengyang who provoked this confrontation today, Mu Fan is only teaching him a lesson."
Seeing that the situation was getting out of control, Li Xuerou's sword tip trembled slightly, the threat obvious: "You people don't distinguish right from wrong and want to gang up on us. Are you not taking our Never-Aging Peak seriously?"
"Hmph, Shengyang's broken arm cannot go unavenged."
A disciple from the Everlasting Peak retorted angrily: "Either Mu Fan dies, or one of his arms is cut off to apologize to Li Shengyang."
"Sister, step back."
Mu Fan's eyes were cold and frosty, and in a flash, his sword had turned into a rain of swords, layer upon layer, roaring away with the force of mountains and seas.
"Ah!"
A series of screams sounded at the same time.