Baili An was about to draw his sword.
At that moment, a black Go piece fell like rain.
A strand of the game's killing aura obliquely descended into the space, and the crisp sound of the chess piece landing on the board easily overpowered the shrill shriek erupting from the human face's mouth.
The extraordinarily polished and forceful chess piece, like a drop of clear ink, landed on the forehead of the human face carved in the mountain.
A force that was not overwhelmingly powerful but profoundly mysterious, like a move that broke the game, its aura intertwined and decomposed among the stone patterns of that face.
With a sudden bang, the face on the mountain exploded into a deep round pit.
Blood flowed continuously from the pit, as if human skin had been blasted and injured.
Meng Zifei's vital energy no longer drained, his wandering spirits greedily took in several deep breaths of yang energy.
