The day passes.

Ten days passed.

Su Yizhao's face was red, and his eyes were also red staring at a purple flying sword.

On the flying sword, a thunderbolt occasionally appeared, wrapped around the flying sword, like a poisonous snake, looking at him vigilantly.

The thunderbolt that had been in high spirits before was as tired as his spirit.

At this point, he was no longer dripping blood.

One is that it is not needed, and the other is that the essence and blood are a little urgent.

Forty drops of essence blood!

Even in the realm of refining the three bodies, I feel that I can't bear it.

Fortunately, the connection in his heart had become very real, and he was sure that he had indeed established a connection with the Purple Flying Sword.

Successfully refining it is only a matter of time

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