"Emperor?" A hint of mockery finally flashed in True Martial's eyes, "With me here as the Emperor, which Emperor dares claim supremacy?" Before his words ended, the giant Mystic Water hand suddenly clenched.
"Ah…" A piercing scream reverberated through Taixu, as the body of the Formless Daoist, along with the imprints of the three giants contained in his Divine Soul, was completely crushed into nothingness.
After finishing all of this, True Martial's face paled a bit more, with a thread of golden blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. Evidently, forcibly channeling power had worsened his injuries.
He looked towards the ravaged battlefield, then glanced at the people of the Taixu Daoist Sect who survived the calamity, and the True Master Lingxu, filled with gratitude and shock in their eyes.
