The gentle golden light almost made one forget it's part of the defensive line.
A cultivator with quite swift movement techniques was the first to step in. As his foot slipped, his figure split into three afterimages. Thinking he had succeeded, he was about to pass through the gap in the mirror light when a copper mirror on the corridor ceiling suddenly let out a soft "ding" sound.
The pale golden brilliance abruptly converged.
The three afterimages were like thin paper encountering fire, instantly burning with scorched edges. His true form was lightly covered by a beam of warm light, freezing him in place, and the token at his waist popped out with a "snap," automatically recording an error.
The cultivator's face flushed red, and he cursed in a low voice, slinking back in defeat.
Sun Lingtong watched with eyes shining brightly.
If it were in the past, he would definitely have viewed this sunlight as an enemy.
Thieves fear light.
