The middle-aged cultivator who fell into the clear river struck the river water with a single palm. When his palm landed on the table-sized river surface, there wasn’t the slightest splash produced, only caving downwards in an orderly manner like a mirror surface.

Borrowing the recoil force of this strike, the middle-aged cultivator’s body powerfully made his way out of the water surface. The golden longsword in his hands didn’t even erupt with any dazzling lightning radiance, easily cutting apart the dozen or so hooks flickering with cold radiance.

A terrifying giant blade that was powerful enough to hack through five or six people at the same time, together with that strike that made the river surface seem to become solid, cutting apart the dozen or so hooks aimed at him, all of this made the middle-aged cultivator seem like a deity. There was no trace of the frail scholar-like appearance from before in sight.

However, right at this moment, this middle-aged cultivator whose face was cold like water lowered his head in horror, staring towards his own chest.

There was nothing on his chest right now, it was...