Magical stronghold, courtyard.

The autumn leaves wither, the dead branches fall, and the cool breeze takes away the last fallen leaves.

An Jing sat on the stone chair, and in front of him was a heavy and simple sword box.

He stretched out his hand and gently stroked the Zhenxie Sword. There was a layer of moving white light on the white sword.

tata tao......

The footsteps sounded, and a middle-aged man walked in quickly.

This person is one of the guardians of the human sect

The content of this chapter is being updated...