Ning Yuan Rong Zhao

The flowing liquid water, rapidly solidified, transformed into white solid ice, still retaining its spiral shape, carrying a penetrating force. 。The frenzied foot stomped, leaping from the golden dragon palanquin, snatched up an iron rod, and with a sudden sweep... 。His iron rod wasn't an ordinary object, heavier than a mountain peak. When he swung it, ripples like waves formed all around. 。," Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate! 。The Mad Demon swung his iron rod, unleashing a wave of holy energy in the shape of tadpoles. The wave surged outward, engulfing the three half-step Saint Kings. 。,Just a little bit. 。If my cultivation were to advance further, Zhang Ruochin would definitely not be able to withstand this sword of mine. 。“The Eastern Flow Sword Saint felt a tinge of regret.” 。"Zhang Ruochin, your cultivation seems to have increased a lot. No wonder you dare to rush over alone." 。Unfortunately, you've met us two. You're destined to drink hatred today. 。。