The sound of the sword chant wasn't loud, yet it seemed to echo from the depths of ancient ages, easily penetrating the deafening roar of the battlefield, clearly falling into the ears of every living being present, reaching straight to their souls.
Its sound was melodious and carried an indescribable sharpness and indifference, as if it could sever karma and separate Yin and Yang.
As the sword chant resonated, Cangtian God's palms, capable of crushing stars and containing the power of the peak of Creation, came together, but they were silently erased, dissolved, annihilated, without the expected earth-shattering collision, not even a trace of energy ripple dispersed.
It was as if it was just a Mirror Flower Water Moon illusion.
The space rippled like water waves to both sides, and a figure stepped out slowly from the void rift that was torn open.
