The talisman in Qin Xin’s hand appeared to be of great antiquity. The yellow paper was frayed, and the cinnabar ink had blurred with time, yet the moment she produced it, a fierce, soaring wind of razor-sharp energy surged forth.
Whoever had inscribed this talisman must have been a figure from centuries past. Though only a lingering wisp of their True Essence remained, it was enough to make one’s heart swell with an instinctive sense of awe.
Even though there was no breeze, the girls in the car felt as if wind-driven hail were lashing against their faces, stinging with intensity.
Chapter 164