The alley wasn't long, with shadows of trees flickering.
A figure in a black robe blended into the night like a ghost, its icy fingers precisely grasping Wei Cheng's hastily drawn upper-grade Magic Sword.
Then,
an overwhelming force of spiritual power erupted, dazzling and tearing through the night sky.
After several exchanges, spots of dark red warmth splattered, a head flew off the neck, crashing onto the cracked ground and turning into a bloody mess.
A large stream of blood gushed from the headless cavity like a fountain, and the headless corpse swayed a few times before collapsing to the ground.
Qingzhi looked on indifferently, bent down and searched the body, then swiftly sped away towards the outskirts of the Market.
Soon after, several cultivators arrived, their faces solemn, as the Market's alarm bell rang loudly.
...
The moment the spiritual light tore through the night sky,
