At the moment Wang Lin left, Zi Shu's body was already on the ground. It had completely withered and was left without a trace of vitality, but there was a faint, golden light flashing on his forehead.
Zi Shu's origin soul had already collapsed, so his body fell from the sky.
The difference between him and Wang Lin was too big; he couldn't even use the sword energy that his master gifted him before he died.
Wang Lin's heart carried a fierce madness, and the celestial spiritual energy inside his body moved like surging waves between his meridians and origin soul. Adding on the stimulation from the fruit, he was like a war god carrying monstrous killing intent.
His eyes were bloodshot as he took a step forward in the air. There were rumbling echoes across the air as if his steps were shattering the sky. He moved rapidly across the air with these large strides.