Lin Xuan woke up one day to some good news: he had become the Primordial World's infamous ultimate weapon, the Zhuxian Sword Formation.
The bad news: the war between immortals and demons was raging, and he was inside Luohou's dantian. He didn't even have a loyal System bro to help him.
Only after Luohou transformed into the Dao and Hongjun secluded himself to become a Saint did Lin Xuan realize that he was the greatest trump card of all.
“Neither bronze nor iron, neither sword nor steel, it once lay hidden beneath Mount Sumeru.”
“Why bother refining it by reversing yin and yang? Water and fire have tempered its sharp edge.”
“The Zhuxian Sword cuts; the Lixian Sword slays. The Xianxian Sword glows red in every direction.”
“The Juexian Sword's transformations are endlessly wondrous; even Golden Immortals bleed upon its blade.”
Countless ages later, Lin Xuan blocked the gates of the Zixiao Palace.
“Hongjun, I hear you have a problem with me?”
Generally speaking, the clone flow talks about cause and effect in every sentence, and goes around to conclude cause and effect, practice rules, and transform one into five, but I feel that I am not far ahead. One plus one is more than two, and the big guy has not come out at all.
Poorly written!
The view on the inability of magic weapons to take form is clear and logical, and the logic is reasonable and clear.
There are too many intrigues.
A prehistoric mosquito, a blood-sucking sword?
Come on! ! ! !
Generally speaking, the clone flow talks about cause and effect in every sentence, and goes around to conclude cause and effect, practice rules, and transform one into five, but I feel that I am not far ahead. One plus one is more than two, and the big guy has not come out at all.
Poorly written!
The view on the inability of magic weapons to take form is clear and logical, and the logic is reasonable and clear.
It feels okay so far! ! !
Okay, okay, good, good