Chen Ping’s expression was indifferent, ignoring the intimidation of the divine clan cultivators. He silently raised his hand and slowly drew the Dragon-Slaying Sword from his back.
The moment the pitch-black sword was drawn, a violent, dense purple chaotic power erupted like a tsunami, sweeping in all directions.
Wrapping around the blade, layers of chaotic fire burned like blazing flames, purple light shooting skyward.
The overwhelming primordial power instantly suppressed the golden holy light present in an instant.
No unnecessary words, no pre-battle confrontation.
Chen Ping raised his arm high, and his wrist suddenly slashed down with force.
With a single sword strike, the wind and clouds stirred.
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