Ning Yuan Rong Zhao

Fēng Mó was secretly astonished, feeling that Zhang Ruochen’s chariot must be of a very high battle rank. Otherwise, it would be impossible to so effortlessly deflect the full force of the Wanwen Sacred Artifact.,The final, sharp tip of the sword stopped, about three inches from Zhang Ruochin's heart.,From the palm of Fang Yi, a small and exquisite flying knife shot out. It transformed into a slender light trace, aiming for Zhang Ruochin's brow.。