Seventy-two Divine Swords were arranged according to mysterious patterns, forming an infinitely powerful sword array.
The moment the sword array took shape, lightning flashed everywhere, and countless sharp sword shadows, like a torrential downpour, fiercely stabbed towards the three Old Ancestors on the ground.
Roar. Roar. Roar.
The three Old Ancestors were already severely wounded. Facing Fang Hong's fierce sword array attack, they simply didn't have enough strength to resist.
They could only endure their injured bodies, letting out pained and furious roars, mobilizing their remaining strength to desperately resist the falling sword rain.
The miserable cries of the divine beasts echoed throughout the heavens and earth, each one filled with pain and despair.
However, Fang Hong's attack was too fierce; the sword rain seemed endless, continuously falling.
In just a few breaths, the roars of the three Old Ancestors completely quieted down.
