Song Qushan snorted coldly, "Little brat, you were just being polite. You think I'm weak and incompetent?" Without hesitation, he stretched out his hand, and a large knife appeared in his hand, meeting Linghu Lan's longsword.
Although the longsword had a strong aura, it was clear that the swordsman's cultivation was still shallow, and Song Qushan was confident that he could withstand the sword strike.
Let me show you how you die.
Linghu Lan smiled and said, "You may be amazing, but I have a cheat code."
Swords clashed!
The air crackled with a popping sound.
Song Qushan's knife shattered inch by inch, and the powerful recoil made him feel his insides boiling, and blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
"This is impossible!" Song Qushan's eyes turned sinister. "How did you do that?"
He could feel his cultivation level dissipating; that sword strike shattered all his magical power.
Linghu Lan smiled. "Nothing is impossible."
The figure of Cangwu materialized from her body.
When Cangwu realized that Linghu Lan's magic was no match for Song Qushan's, he rushed out of the statue, took over Linghu Lan's body, grabbed the sword, and slashed at Song Qushan.
Song Qushan watched this scene in astonishment.
"God! It's God!!! This humble servant greets Master."
Although he was old, the scene of accidentally stumbling into the secret realm had been echoing in his mind for hundreds of years. He was familiar with the aura of the gods, and he could recognize Cangwu as a god at a glance.
Cangwu thought about it for a moment and then understood.
Canghai grew from his ribs; their bloodlines were connected, so it was reasonable for Song Qushan to mistakenly identify him as Canghai.
The sins left behind by Canghai should be borne by him.
He slowly stretched out his hand, his slender fingers possessing a strange allure.
Song Qushan was completely unable to move, feeling as if his already scattered cultivation had suddenly detached from his body.
His eyes were wide open, fear surging through every cell of his body.
He's going to lose his magic powers; he's going to become an ordinary person.
No!
He doesn't want to become a mortal; he's an immortal!
"Master, spare me! Spare me! I've always been, always been loyal..."
With his magic power withdrawn, Song Qushan's life force lost its support. Wrinkles crept onto his face, his black hair turned silver, his voice became dull and hoarse, and his body instantly withered away. Finally, he lay on the ground, unable to move at all.
Cangwu slowly said, "I am not your master!"
Song Qushan moved his fingers, but could no longer respond.
Linghu Lan glanced at Song Qushan, who was sprawled on the ground, and silently gave Cangwu a thumbs up.
I'm carrying an ancient god with me, are you scared yet?!
Your era is over!
...
After finishing dealing with Song Qushan.
Cangwu turned around and looked at Linghu Lan, his face expressionless, but there was a hint of shyness and embarrassment in his eyes. He quickly slipped into the statue.
Linghu Lan: "..." Oh my god! You just peeked at my body and now you want to shirk responsibility? Get out here!
Cangwu: "..."
He closed his eyes inside the statue, and only then did his wildly beating heart calm down a little.
He didn't understand what was going on. When he realized that Mo Yin's magic power was insufficient to deal with Song Qushan, he instinctively jumped out, took over her body, and grabbed the sword to slash down.
And she offered her body without the slightest resistance.
This makes no sense.
Isn't she afraid he'll possess her body?
He had spent countless years in the realms of gods and immortals, and was already accustomed to the drama of possession and rebirth. Countless gods, demons, and monsters had laid out elaborate schemes spanning thousands or tens of thousands of years for a good physical appearance.
She wasn't afraid at all? Was she careless, or did she trust him too much?
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