However, in the silence of the ancient mansion, there sat a person.
This figure was sitting under the moonlight, appearing somewhat lonely.
But upon closer inspection, one could seemingly discover a different kind of aura.
Moreover, below there occasionally flashed sharp, cold glows.
These glows were very sharp, cold like the chill of ice, piercing one's soul with pain.
This figure was naturally Xiao Li, who was slowly polishing his long sword.
The sword was pitch-black and simple in appearance, it looked no different from a common blade at a glance, nothing special about it.
However, Xiao Li's expression was very meticulous, as if he were facing the most precious treasure in the world; his movements were gentle and soft, wiping every part of the long sword extremely clean.
To him, this black long sword was his life.
Lin Xuan sped all the way and finally arrived above the ancient castle, he saw Xiao Li below but didn't make a sound, just quietly watched.
