Once the glare dispelled, the pair's figures re-emerged.
Pah!
The Fengdu's Ghost Emperor spat out a mouthful of coagulated blood, his dragon robe tattered, the crown on his head shattered long ago, his long hair scattered, an image of utter defeat.
He was deeply shocked, he didn't expect to still fail to block Pei Xuanjing's sword.
Pei Xuanjing couldn't help but admire, the Seven Kills Sword was indeed worthy of its reputation as the divine weapon of the Seven Kills Sword Sect, even surpassing his Shenxiao Sword. It completely bore the sword intent of Pei Xuanjing. Not only was it unaffected, but it seemed to imprint his sword intent as well.
He looked at the disheveled Fengdu's Ghost Emperor and coldly stated: "Let's end it all!"
As he spoke, the Seven Kills sword in his hand swayed again, ready to strike down his opponent.
Nevertheless, the Fengdu's Ghost Emperor wouldn't simply wait for his death.