The charming widow of the Marquis's mansion: The stable boy carries the flag and raises the dra

Wang Long nodded, his gaze never leaving Kui Yuan's figure.

He knew that this puppet was just an appetizer; the real opponent was Kui Yuan himself.

He took a deep breath, and his spiritual power and literary energy circulated simultaneously. He pushed his Chaotic Dao Body to its limit, and golden light flowed endlessly around him.

"I'll play along with you!"

He swayed and took the initiative to meet Kui Yuan.

Two peak Heavenly Sovereign figures collided in mid-air, golden light and black mist intertwining and tearing each other apart.

Each impact was like a thunderclap, illuminating the night sky with flickering light.

The disciples of the Primordial Holy Palace on the ground looked up at the two figures colliding repeatedly in the clouds, and felt that even breathing had become difficult.

Even the slightest aftershock of a battle at that level would be enough to crush them into dust.

At the same time, Zheng Yuan had already gritted his teeth and pressed towards Ye Wushuang and Xuanzhen Daoist.

He raised his hand and flipped it over, revealing a long sword with a dark golden luster flowing through its body. The sword was covered with intricate array patterns and exuded a sharp sword aura.

"Palace Master Ye, Daoist Xuanzhen, please enlighten us!"

His voice was polite, but his actions were ruthless.

The dark golden blade light, carrying violent spiritual power, drew a huge arc in the air, heading straight for the two people's faces!

Ye Wushuang didn't speak, but simply raised the cracked longsword in his hand, a thin layer of frost rising from its blade.

She met the dark golden blade light with a single slash!

Taoist Xuanzhen also made a move at the same time.

Although his left arm was crippled, the spiritual power in his right hand remained abundant. A bluish-gray palm print flew out from his palm.

He precisely met the side of Zheng Yuan's slashing blade, and together with Ye Wushuang's sword light, they formed a pincer attack.

Boom! The dark golden blade light collided with the frost sword light and the bluish-gray palm print at the same time. The three forces intertwined and tore each other in mid-air, producing a muffled loud noise.

Zheng Yuan was forced back several steps by the recoil, and his hand felt slightly numb.

His expression turned even uglier.

With the two of them working together, he found himself struggling to cope.

Zheng Yuan gritted his teeth and cursed inwardly.

If it weren't for the sudden appearance of Wang Long, they would have already taken over the Primordial Holy Palace!

Damn!

Damn it!

Zheng Yuan gritted his teeth and had no choice but to grit his teeth and continue.

Meanwhile, Ye Niannu had already fixed her gaze on Zheng Hao in the wheelchair.

Those peach blossom eyes, which usually carried a hint of lazy smile, were now as cold as if they had been quenched with ice.

She gripped the spirit sword in her hand and walked towards Zheng Hao step by step.

The tip of the sword dragged a shallow mark on the ground, making a slight scraping sound.

Zheng Hao was sitting in his wheelchair, his eyes still fixed on the golden figure fighting with Kui Yuan in mid-air, and he was cursing something.

Hearing the approaching footsteps, he turned his head sharply and met Ye Niannu's icy eyes. He froze.

"What...what do you want to do?!"

"What are you doing?"

Ye Niannu's voice was as cold as ice.

"I heard everything you just said clearly."

She took a step forward with each sentence she spoke.

Zheng Hao's face grew paler and paler. He gripped the armrests of his wheelchair with both hands, desperately trying to back up, but the wheels of the wheelchair were stuck in the gaps between the rubble and he couldn't move it no matter what he did.

His voice began to tremble.

"You, you stay away! I'm warning you... my father is over there! If you dare touch me, he will never let you get away with it!"

Ye Niannu stopped in front of him, looking down at him. Her face, usually always smiling, was expressionless at this moment.

"Your father? Your father is barely able to take care of himself, how could he have time to care about you?"

Before she could finish speaking, the sword in her hand had already fallen.

The first sword strike severed Zheng Hao's left arm.

Zheng Hao let out a pig-like scream, tumbled off his wheelchair, and crashed into a pile of rubble, blood gushing out.

The ground beneath him was stained dark red. He clutched his severed arm, his whole body trembling violently, his voice filled with fear.

"My arm! My arm!!"

Ye Niannu did not stop; with a second sword strike, she severed his right arm.

The third strike, to the left leg.

The fourth strike, to the right leg.

Zheng Hao's screams echoed across the square, mournful and piercing.

His prized protective artifacts and life-saving talismans bestowed upon him by his family crumbled like paper under Ye Niannu's sword, disintegrating into dust one after another.

His attendants tried to rush to his aid, but were firmly blocked by the disciples of the Primordial Holy Palace, leaving them in dire straits.

When Ye Niannu's final sword strike landed, Zheng Hao lay completely on the ground, his limbs severed, his body covered in blood, and his breath as faint as a candle flickering in the wind.

His eyes were unfocused, his lips moved, but he could no longer utter a complete syllable.

"I...I was wrong, no...please don't kill me..."

Ye Niannu sheathed her sword, looked down at his extremely disheveled appearance, and spoke in an extremely indifferent tone.

"Didn't you want to see the Primordial Holy Palace destroyed? I'll show you how your backers fall one by one."

She stopped looking at him and turned to walk towards Ye Wushuang.

She knew that Zheng Hao was finished.

His meridians were shattered by the sword energy, and his dantian was also cracked. He would be a cripple for the rest of his life.

Zheng Hao lay on the ground, the world before his eyes beginning to blur.

He heard the sounds of collisions and roars from afar, the muffled groans of his father as he fought Ye Wushuang and Xuanzhen Daoist, and the increasingly rapid breathing of Kuiyuan during their battle.

He tried to open his eyes wide, but could only see a blurry, surging light interwoven with black and gold.

He wanted to scream, to struggle, to stop this nightmare.

But there was nothing he could do.

The battle in the sky above the square continues, but the situation is gradually shifting.

The battle between Wang Long and Kui Yuan had lasted for the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea.

The golden literary energy and the black puppet spirit energy collided, tore, and recombine in mid-air. Each clash was like a thunderclap, illuminating the entire sky above the Primordial Holy Palace with flickering light.

Kui Yuan's expression grew increasingly grim. His natal puppet was already entangled by Xiao Qiu and Xiao Xian'er, and he couldn't break free to provide support for the time being.

As for himself, he was gradually losing ground when faced with Wang Long's endless tricks.

Enveloped in golden light, Wang Long's figure moved with agility unlike that of a late-stage Heavenly Sovereign. At times, he would condense a rain of swords with his literary energy, and at other times, he would use his Chaotic Dao Body to withstand a blow from Kui Yuan. With the purifying power of his righteous energy, he neutralized Kui Yuan's insidious methods one by one.

The more Kui Yuan fought, the more alarmed he became.

His puppet spirit true energy was originally known for its ability to erode, corrupt, and devour, but as soon as the black mist approached Wang Long's body, it was sizzled by the golden light emanating from him, as if it had encountered a natural enemy.

His attacks, his poisonous fog, and his underhanded methods were all like mud sinking into the sea in front of Wang Long, utterly useless.