As the streak of rosy light flew toward her, the senior apprentice-sister swung her sword to meet it.
The speed of the rosy light was extremely fast, and halfway through, it suddenly surged, dispersing into a vast expanse, with a foggy haze where five-colored auras intermingled like clouds and miasma.
The heirloom sword that Xiaozhai had casually forged from a stubborn stone, now slightly tilted, carved a half-arc in the air like a fin slicing through waves, delicately parting the void and piercing into the light mist.
Clang!
Upon contact between the sword tip and the light mist, a metallic clashing sound erupted.
The senior apprentice-sister's right hand trembled violently as if she had stabbed into an immensely hard stone, with a powerful recoil force nearly snatching the longsword from her grasp.
In quick succession, her expression drastically changed as the light mist churned and flowed, rapidly becoming soft and coiling, emitting a tremendous suction force.
