"Fairy Yu Ling, your target is the mysterious underworld Saint son. We have no enmity with you, so why do you have to make things difficult for us? If you let me go, I'm willing to use all my treasures to buy my life!" A Holy Son, who was surrounded by icy sword Qi, shouted in panic. His voice was full of despair.
After seeing the Qilin deity being killed and being trapped in the ten thousand flower God slaughtering array, the saint's Dao heart had collapsed.
"You're not qualified to negotiate with me! Die!"
Yu Ling's voice was as cold as smoke. She reached out her slender hand and clenched it in the air. Enchanting flowers with the power of rules of saintly way all gathered toward the man.
The frosty sword Qi around the Holy Son quickly crumbled, and in the blink of an eye, his entire body was covered in a layer of enchanting flowers.
"Ah, Yingluo."