Ye Tian smiled, the white glow on the longsword in his hand disappeared, transforming back into the original broken twig. Now infused with a strand of Creation Energy, its black color faded, returning to a vibrant green—this was its honor.
This young man, with a branch as his sword, driving the gods away and scattering all demons. This phrase would be passed down through the endless river of ages, spreading in Coffin Mountain and the desolate lands of the northwest.
Ye Tian's clothes fluttered as he stood quietly, as if he were the only existence between Heaven and Earth, evoking deep reverence. Flocks of black crows screeched madly, flying into the distance, never to return.
At this moment, Black Rose felt immensely conflicted. This young master, who seemed incredibly youthful, was even more powerful than herself, someone who had cultivated for over thirty years and had just barely advanced to Dark-grade. A sense of failure arose within her.
