Reformation

A moon of pure white slowly rose, flanked by thunder. In the moonlight that was as cold as steel, countless knives and axes condensed out of thin air, whistling as they flew out. Wherever they passed, everything was taken apart.

At the moment, in Ye Qingxuan's hands, the technique of sword casting had evolved from the music theory of the school of abstinence towards that of the school of modifications. Murderous intentions from the school of heart gathered on them, forming a lethal poison that could rot away and annihilate all consciousness and tenacity.

A horrifying amount of aether was lifted from the sea of aether by Ye Qingxuan, using the staff of fate. Every knife and axe contained a terrifying power enough to suck any musician of the same level dry.