Everyone couldn't help but look at Zong Ting a few more times. Seeing him lying on the bluestone with his head covered, sleeping soundly, their eyelids couldn't help but twitch.
Forget it, it seems that Nezha from Taixuan Jiufeng has a better chance.
"Master Sword Spirit, I refuse to accept!" Zong Yao's eyes were red as he suddenly stood up. "I am a legitimate descendant of the Zong family. At only thirty, I already broke through the Guiyuan and condensed the Sword Infant. How could I not be qualified?"
"Taixuan Nezha was just an unknown beggar half a year ago. How could he be the lord of Chaoyang City?"
The vertical pupils above the sky stared at Zong Yao coldly without saying a word.
Zong Yao took a few steps and pounced on the Daoyun chessboard. When he raised his hand, all the spiritual light on the spiritual platform was drawn out and condensed into a white chess piece.
"If a little bastard can do it, I, Zong Yao, can do it too. Master Sword Spirit, you better watch carefully!"
With a snap, the white piece fell onto the chessboard, splashing wisps of light.
However, soon, the white piece that had just solidified began to tremble violently, and then shattered.
Almost at the same time as the white piece was broken, a locust tree branch fell from the tree and turned into a black piece. When the black piece fell to the ground, it turned into a strange black vortex, enveloping Zong Yao completely.
His spiritual energy, magical power, Taoist vitality, and even his life force were all devoured. In just a few breaths, Zong Yao, who was in the prime of his middle age, turned into an old man with white hair.
"How could this happen? How could this happen..."
Zong Yao struggled to stand up, muttering with a ferocious expression. The next moment, he spat out a mouthful of blood and fell on his back.
The whole place was dead silent.
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