After Qin Ming finished speaking, he flicked his sleeve and turned to walk back.
After a great battle, with the Wind Disaster rampaging, Heavenly Fire surging, Thunder splitting the sky, and the Magic Domain pressing down, his white robe remained spotless, not even the hem torn.
Qin Ming's eyes shone like stars, his long black hair hanging to his waist, a faint immortal energy coiling around him as he strode across the boundless Night Fog Sea, returning to the place where the Xuanhuang Tree stood.
Nearby, a crowd of Cultivators followed, making their way back as well.
"I really didn't expect to witness such a spectacular Great Saint Level blood battle with my own eyes."
"That's not right—when did Zheng Guang ever get stained with blood? If you ask me, he treated it as though it weighed nothing. He scattered the sky-filling Thunder Fire with a sweep of his white sleeves, suppressed a Great Saint with a turn of his hand, clearly still holding back."
