With just a glance, Daoist Zixuan knew that the sword that had accompanied her for hundreds of years had been practically ruined by the corroding black fog.
"My magic weapon."
Her lips quivered with distress. Her Whole Unitary Sect had many magic weapons and tools, but the top-tier ones were few and far between. She received this sword as an inheritance from the sect's elder, her Master. She had painstakingly nourished it with her True Origin power for hundreds of years, yet all of it went to waste now.
At this time, gushing killing intent finally birthed inside Daoist Zixuan's heart despite the firm mind she had been cultivating. She truly hated all these Celestial Wizard people and was hardly able to contain herself from killing all of them. Yet, her sane self still reminded her that it would be a huge endeavor, even if she staked everything.