In Xunyang City and the Myriad Willows Garden, Zhu Luo had suffered two successive blows and was no longer at his peak, but when he unsheathed his sword, he was still an expert of the Divine Domain, accompanied by a storm.
Tonight, the torrents of rain had poured down for a very long time. Even now, there was still rainwater flowing down from the mausoleum. This rainwater gathered in the shallow canals of white, gradually muddying the waters in them.
Suddenly, the turbid waters of the canal became a pure white akin to snow.
Not because they had been cleaned, but because of the reflected light.
A extremely bright and clear splendor appeared at the base of the Mausoleum of Books.
This splendor came from the sword in Zhu Luo's hand.
Next, a sphere of pure white light appeared amidst the scattered clouds and stars. Everyone knew that it was fake, but it seemed so real when they looked up at it.
Zhu Luo's sword slashed towards the Mausoleum of Books.