"What is this tower?" Shen Lian asked suddenly.
In Wu Qingzi's gaze lies Shen Lian's cold stare. His eyes were like a mirror, which is supposed to reflect him, but he only saw the ancient tower and a sword.
"The Black and Yellow Tower of Protection." Wu Qingzi could not help but answer.
Shen Lian replied, "It is a good tower, but it can't save your life."
A black and yellow wooden sword appeared in Shen Lian's hand. His Daoist clothes were elevated, and he took the stepped forward slowly.
The black and yellow wooden sword was made of extraordinary material. It had the buzz of metal, and the clanking sound it made was comparable to the metal strings of a pipa. Shen Lian's sword will grew deeper, like a grim reaper.
Even when the black and yellow Qi was lowered, like the supreme shield that blocked out the sword will, Wu Qingzi's Daoist heart which was usually calm still felt cold.