The sharp blades that were irregularly shaped shot toward Lu Zhou.
Lu Zhou placed his right hand on the table.
Bam!
With his hand in the center, Primal Qi rippled into the surroundings.
The sharp blades reverted into wine that spilled on the ground.
Lu Zhou's protective energy prevented him from being drenched in wine.
The wine fell like a drizzle of rain.
That was another move. The result was clear.
Gong Yuandu's eyelids twitched. This was the sword path that he had painstakingly studied and cultivated throughout the years in the Mausoleum of Swords. He had mastered converting anything into swords. He did not expect his technique to be so easily dealt with by Lu Zhou.
The others who were watching this battle could no longer understand what was happening. At most, they could only condense Qi into energy. How was it possible to turn wine into blades? Wine was not water that could be frozen into sharp icicles.
