Chapter 689: No Evil Ghosts under Divine Thunder
Blake landed on a pile of bricks, his body injured by the sword energy that came piercing through the air.
His crimson wedding robe was ripped apart, tattered and in disarray, as his internal blood and energy surged and a sweet, metallic taste rose in his throat.
He struggled to stand, looking warily around at his surroundings as the turbulence in his heart battered against the rocks.
At that moment, a man in a white gown stepped out of the void. Just a second ago, he had been several dozen meters away, but in the blink of an eye, he appeared at the entrance of the pigpen.
He floated in midair, his robe billowing as he held the Deicide Sword, which brimmed with endless killing intent. The heavens and earth seemed to fade in comparison.
Blake sensed the pressure from the superiors sealing off the surrounding space, and his heart trembled. He reluctantly gestured towards his sleeve, "Fellow Daoist, we don't know each other, and I hope you won't interfere in today's affairs."