Wu Xiang was speechless for a moment. He had spent years worshiping Buddha and was adept at debating difficult issues. Even though his mind had just been shaken, given another second or two, he could have presented a plethora of reasons to Nezha.
But Nezha didn't bother listening. With a flick of his arm, he felt an astonishing force surge from his palm, and the wrist he had just grabbed broke free in an instant.
Witnessing Nezha's small form darting into the crowd like a tiger amongst sheep, he wielded the Seven-star Treasure Sword, its light blossoming like a lotus. The exquisite method passed down by Shi Ji, when executed by Nezha's hands, revealed endless marvels.
Gu Jianqing, upon seeing this, grew anxious. He knew that his fellow disciples, depleted of their Primordial Qi, were incapable of using their Magic Treasures or Daoist Skills, and stood no chance against Nezha. He suddenly shook out a large red kerchief and threw it up into the sky.
