"Pipe down!" said Meng Hao coolly, completely ignoring the incoming beam of light and the large cauldron. He slapped his bag of holding, and instantly, a simple wooden sword appeared.
Gripping the sword in his hand, he swiped it at the beam and the cauldron.
The slash of the sword seemed to split the very air, sending ripples out, as well as a bright white glow. The seemingly casual slash appeared to contain some great Dao, as if great winds of Time were sweeping out through the ripples.
Within the approaching beam of light was a flying axe. Storm winds filled with a sixty-year cycle worth of Time slammed into the flying axe. Immediately, black spots appeared on its surface, as if it were aging. The spiritual power of the axe began to decay. Within the blink of an eye, it was so decayed that it seemed as if it would wither away. It immediately dropped down onto the ground.