"Sky Opening."
The reflection of an expanding arc of sword qi appeared simultaneously in the monk's three eyes, while behind him, the "Unmovable Ming King" was being shredded into pieces by red threads, collapsing and vanishing.
"No—"
The dark cyan hue on his skin faded quickly, reverting to its original color.
As the sword qi swept through, blood seeped from his pores, turning him into a bloody figure in the blink of an eye, flying out like a cannonball, crashing through the barrier, and falling hard onto the ground.
As the sword light vanished and the red threads disappeared, only scorched marks remained on the ground, along with Zhao Douan standing at the entrance of the courtyard, holding the sword.
His clothes returned to their blue color, his silver pupils reverted to normal, yet his black hair remained disheveled and scattered.
Silence.
An eerie silence.
Heavily wounded, Tianhai lay staring blankly, three eyes devoid of spirit, as if his spirit and faith were crushed.
