Ning Yuan Rong Zhao

On the other side, Zhang Ruochen rode the golden chariot and was unstoppable. He crashed into seven peak-level Saints in a row, injuring three of them severely. 。,East Flow Sword Venerable, standing on the side, pupils contracted to the size of a needle. Seizing the opportunity, he thrust his sword out. 。Because the speed at which he erupted was too fast, it even formed eighteen remnant souls, and all of the remnant souls were connected into a straight line. 。,Just a little bit. 。If my cultivation were to advance further, Zhang Ruochin would definitely not be able to withstand this sword of mine. 。“The Eastern Flow Sword Saint felt a tinge of regret.” 。"Zhang Ruochin, your cultivation seems to have increased a lot. No wonder you dare to rush over alone." 。Unfortunately, you've met us two. You're destined to drink hatred today. 。。