The seafloor was pitch-black, with only the dark gold patterns on the spine of [Broken Star] flickering faintly.
Han Feng was having a blast.
The thrill of feeling the weapon's Spiritual nature grow with just a wave of his hand, without any painstaking Cultivation on his part, was simply addictive.
In his eyes, the dense mass of spiritual tentacles ahead was no longer a terrifying line of defense, but a patch of leeks just waiting to be harvested.
"Another one."
With a slight twitch of his fingers, Han Feng sent the Short Sword streaking out again to slice off another tentacle.
But just then, something unexpected happened.
The swarm of tentacles, which had been drifting with the undercurrent like seaweed and letting him slaughter them at will...
...suddenly seemed to have been startled—or perhaps they had received some kind of command.
WHOOSH—
Countless tentacles violently retracted into the depths of the cavern all at once.
