Lu Qingshan's hand holding the sword was trembling continuously, drenched in cold sweat.
His entire meridians were transmitting a burning sensation and the pain was unbearable; the spiritual power within his dantian was nearly exhausted.
The Dragon Sparrow Sword was still resonating with a humming sound.
Heaven Suppressing had three swords, but he had only unleashed one slash, which had consumed ninety-nine percent of his spiritual power, and his physical body was on the brink of collapse.
This was the burden one had to bear when executing Heaven Suppressing.
He was gasping slightly.
The dust settled, the flames dissipated, and everything returned to calm.
Rustle rustle.
In the midst of the calm, an unusual noise came from above, prompting Lu Qingshan to raise his head.
On the branches of the peach tree that seemed to blot out the sky, the buds that had been hidden and unopened suddenly began to grow vigorously.
Suddenly, as if a night of spring breeze had passed.