Super Con Artist Immortal

A sword streaked across the sky, piercing the darkness. With a howl, it plunged into the shattered earth. A vast shockwave surged outward from a point nine feet away, as if it would grind everything in sight to dust! “Come, sword!” The dark-skinned youth spread his five fingers and roared at the sky, shouting the iconic line. Turning his right hand into a palm, as though grasping all of time, the gray-robed elder smiled faintly at the dark-skinned youth before him. He spoke softly, but his words vanished into the wind, and no one could make out what he was saying. Then he gently closed his right hand. The distant earth trembled, a mountain peak split apart, and the sea of clouds surged. A faint voice echoed in the astonished youth’s ears: “This technique is called Moving Mountains.” The sky was pitch-black, as if the end of the world had come. A towering giant roared furiously at the heavens, as if venting every grievance in his heart. Far below him, countless enemies advanced, while behind the giant, a group of cultivators charged toward them, shouting, “Glory to the Yun Sect!” The next moment, they were reduced to ashes. Countless grotesque creatures swarmed beneath the city walls. The soldiers defending their homeland looked desperate, but not one of them retreated, for countless innocent civilians stood behind them. As long as the city stood, so would they. This is Chang’an, the capital of the Great Tang, and it is on the brink of destruction.