The scent of rotting corpses wrapped in a bloody gale rolled in, bringing a taste of rust to Ye Fan's throat. He could clearly perceive the churning malice within that aura—when he was ambushed by the Jiuyou Nether Lord in his past life with the Myriad Souls Heart-Devouring Curse, this chill had burrowed into his Sea of Consciousness, gnawing at his divine soul for three days and three nights.
"Zhaoyue, the seventh form of your Taichu Sword Canon requires sword momentum to stir the thunder of heaven and earth." His fingertips pressed against the space between his brows. The branches of the golden tree within his Inner World suddenly burst with a faint light, and the sword moves he had deduced over the past ten years flowed through his Sea of Consciousness like running water. "When that mass of black mist disperses, thrust your sword at the withered pine thirty paces to your left. I will use my Inner World to build momentum for you."
Lin Zhaoyue was wiping her blade with a cloud-patterned handkerchief. Hearing this, she raised her eyes. The bloodstain at the corner of her eye was not yet wiped clean, making her pupils appear all the more brilliant. "Good." As she sheathed her sword, the sword's hum suddenly sharpened, as if responding in advance to the impending battle.
Chapter 411