Don’t Eat Pies That You Are Not Supposed To
Biên tập viên: Nyoi-Bo Studio
For a moment, everyone felt a chill for no reason.
Time seemed to freeze, and one could hear a clear whistle of a sword.
As time seemed to progress at a speed tens of millions of times slower than usual, a cold light flew towards them from the depths of the night sky. It passed the stars, penetrated the gloomy clouds, flitted across the endless oceans and mountains, and descended from the sky.
It was so cold, but it possessed a brilliance like that of souls burning, stinging everyone's eyes.
The Sword Art of the Departing Soul!
The clear whistling of the sword reverberated in one's ears belatedly, sounding one after another, yet overlapping with each other. It was like the gentle and slow plucking of the strings of a qin using five fingers, the captivation of iron drumsticks hitting a bronze drum, and the charm and joy of lutes being played and flutes being blown.