Xiao Yi felt the unusual movement of the Cold Flame Sword, glancing at the golden light drifting in the air.
If the rumors are true, to what extent was the ancient warrior who founded the Ten Thousand Gold Mansion truly powerful?
He had sensed the golden light, obviously containing the breath of a gold attribute, incredibly sharp.
This golden light, enduring for millennia without fading.
But the Martial Artists couldn't absorb it or touch it, as if it were air.
Were the martial artists of the Ancient Times really that powerful, so much so that it seems unfathomable?
A hint of longing flashed across Xiao Yi's face.
But this trace of longing was quickly covered by the indifference on his face.
He concentrated the flame in his hand, quickly refining the inner core of the Golden Light Ghost Wolf into an elixir.
With a touch of hesitation, he slowly extended the Cold Flame Sword towards the golden mist in the air.
