It was a silent yet intense battle. The slender figure, which was Meng Fuyao, was being forced to free itself by flipping upward, time and time again, all while being thrown into a nightmarish recollection of old memories. Her mind was close to being blank, and her only thought was, 'Kill him! Kill these frightening memories!'
30th move…100th move…300th move…
Sweat trickled from Guo Pingrong's forehead, giving it a greasy shine.
'This woman is crazy.'
He hadn't seen anyone fighting in this manner before. He hadn't imagined anyone to be able to fight this recklessly in a battle.
By now, Meng Fuyao had inflicted seven bloody wounds on his body, while he had already given her 20, all left by his sword.
