At that moment, the Legacy Archon suddenly frowned, his keen senses picking up a subtle change in the radiance of the Promised Land.
He looked up at the sky first—clouds churned and thunder rumbled overhead.
Then he looked down at the earth—mists swirled around the mighty stronghold, as if it had been awakened.
He looked at the people—all the followers seemed to have illusory flames flickering on them, and those flames, as if blown by a great wind, all wavered in the same direction.
Finally, the Legacy Archon followed the flickering flames, his gaze landing on the lone figure guarding the pass. He was so shocked his jaw nearly hit the floor: "The Sacred Flame’s will has been passed down for a thousand years, and now it picks... him? Or maybe... ‘her’?"
Across the way, all the masters were stunned, then gritted their teeth. The Silver Priest's face flushed with rage, veins bulging on his forehead, but he finally suppressed his urge and waved his hand: "Go! Kill him!"
The whole army let out a battle cry and surged forward, killing intent rolling in waves. But that lone figure just threw his head back and laughed—loud, wild, and totally carefree. He stood at the pass, swaying as if tipsy, but his spirit soared sky-high. His laughter rang out, bold and mocking, echoing through the mountains, his shout shaking the heavens.
"Gutless wonders!"
So nobody’s got the guts to step up, huh?
No, there is someone who dares—Master Ruin.
With a guttural roar, he burst from the crowd and shot straight for the city gate, a spectral handprint blasting out like a cannon, hatred surging like a tidal wave: "Jade Hawk Johnson, your time's up!"
Tom Seven zipped forward with a whoop, shouting, "No wonder they call you the White Tiger of the West, the wild and reckless Reaper Lord! This is the showdown I've been dreaming of—only someone like you will do!"
But halfway there, Tom Seven suddenly skidded to a halt, his eyes wide with suspicion. As the dust settled, what emerged was a tall, shapely, stunning... woman?
Wait, how could it be a woman?
"Even better—a woman, a woman!" Master Ruin was practically losing his mind with excitement, charging ahead again, his spectral hand reaching out to grab. "Are you the White-Haired Bandit Queen? Fantastic, just fantastic! With you, I'll be invincible!"
Facing that earth-shattering palm strike, the white-haired woman didn't dodge or flinch—she took it head-on.
The friendly forces on the city wall went wild, cries of shock erupting everywhere.
Boom! Ghostly flames surged, shockwaves swept in every direction, shaking the city walls till the dust rained down.
This negative energy was born from the desperate curses of countless dead souls—not your run-of-the-mill cultivated qi, but a psychic power with bizarre light and shadow. It could corrode any living thing; even the strongest martial artists would suffer if it stuck to them. Master Ruin ignored the Manichaean Sect archers shooting sleeve arrows from the wall, cackling as he kept slamming his palms, explosions booming nonstop, ghost fire blazing sky-high.
"Die, die, die! Die in endless agony for me—now!"