In the air, due to the presence of this sword, the piercing sensation seemed to penetrate Qin Hao's body through every pore, seeping into his blood as if to sever each muscle fiber.
The black skinny old man's steps were slow, resembling a farmer's stride, lacking any discernible pattern. Nonetheless, Qin Hao had all directions locked, meaning at this moment, he had no route of retreat.
The tactical dagger was casually held in the old man's hand as he walked over, while Qin Hao felt like a watermelon displayed on a stand, about to be effortlessly cut in half the next second.
At this instant, Qin Hao was completely drawn into the old man's aura. The cultivation technique of the Golden Stone Sect was extremely strong and fierce, their inherited technique aimed to refine oneself into a sharp treasure sword. This golden iron sword intent, when encountered by people of the mundane world, could kill without a fight.
