The moonlight was like gauze, gently drifting down.
Yet, at the moment it touched that Sword Light, it rippled with layer upon layer of waves. A power that chilled one's Divine Soul spread forth, wanting to trace the Sword Blade back to Chu Zhihe's Primordial Spirit.
Chu Zhihe's sword trembled slightly, emitting a clear and high-pitched hum, its sharp brilliance swirling, shredding that thread of moonlight into fragments.
However, those threads of moonlight dispersed and gathered imperceptibly, and in an instant, they coalesced again, then entwined with the Sword Blade.
Chu Zhihe frowned deeply. Although the disciples of the Tao Vein cultivated at the Bright Moon Temple, the spells they eventually formed differed in a thousand subtle ways based on their own foundation and understanding of heaven and earth.
Qi Zhiyuan hadn't even utilized a Divine Weapon, yet with magic alone, he could suppress his own Qinghe Sword, clearly indicating his cultivation surpassed his own.
