Wang Jixuan heard Xiao Sang’s cry and felt a weariness, and an anger he could not hide.
He considered for a moment.
In truth, he had a way to help Xiao Sang escape her current plight — but that method would harm her far more than being seized and forged into a sword-spirit.
Daoist Wang sighed faintly, then began to study the expressions of the main masters gathered there.
Jian Jiu, the Nine-Spirit Sword Venerable, frowned as he stared toward the direction where Xiao Sang had appeared, a touch of surprise on his face.
The woman standing on the Fire Phoenix merely glanced at Xiao Sang, her expression unchanged.
Clearly she paid no heed to the will of the Spirit of the Divine Wood.
The Spear Immortal, Luo Tianjin, who wore no inner robe and only a chainmail over his chest, sneered and rolled his eyes, a light sigh escaping him; he did not say more.
Huang Langyu, deputy palace master of the Feather God Palace, knitted his brows and looked at Xiao Sang with a complicated light in his eyes.