In the third month, the forging of the Xuanyuan Sword had reached the final stage. Everything was progressing very smoothly, and according to Lin Mo's plan, the Xuanyuan Sword would certainly advance to the Star Sea Level this time.
Lin Mo stood bare-chested on a desolate peak, his sword eyebrows tightly furrowed, and everything nearby was a mess, evidently having suffered great destructive power moments ago.
"Why can't I condense the last seventh Purple Shadow of the Purple Shadow Holy Fist?"
Lin Mo frowned, and suddenly the True Yuan inside him roared out. He then moved like a purple shadow, leaving an afterimage of several kilometers, and fiercely punched. The air instantly exploded with a loud bang, and a single punch created a huge hole in a barren mountain peak.
When Lin Mo condensed the last punch, the purple shadows birthed from the previous six punches showed signs of disintegration.
"Condense for me!"
