"What is this divine artifact?!"
A certain Arhat stared intently at the fragment of Haotian Realm in Qin Zheng's hand, furrowing his brows and asking aloud.
Immediately following that.
Another Arhat narrowed his eyes slightly, his voice cold as he spoke: "You think by stripping out the firmament, we will have no means to deal with you?!"
At this moment, the aura of the eight Arhats surged, quickly spreading in all directions.
The other monks also swiftly regained their composure under the spread of the Arhats' aura, each performing their duties, forming a Formation.
In just an instant, an invisible and terrifying killing intent, like an overwhelming flood, bore down on Qin Zheng.
Crack!
Rumble rumble!
The void began to collapse in areas.
Then, in the next instant, each of the eight Arhats produced a Chan staff.
These eight Chan staffs looked identical, as if they were all the same one.
Yet, the aura each emitted was distinct.