The sword felt incredibly light, and Zhu Minglang himself felt extraordinarily agile. In this state, he believed he could elevate some of his sword techniques to a whole new realm, stacking swords, for example.
Thrusting the sword was the most basic of techniques, varying only in angle with consistent force. But in the blink of an eye, Zhu Minglang executed it hundreds of times, the blade flickering like lightning and the tip blooming like raindrops on the surface of a lake. Then these fleeting shadows and rippling blooms layered upon each other in ceaseless interweaving, creating a spectacle of stunning beauty and shock!
The grey-haired sect enforcer struggled to defend; however, his sword was pierced through with countless holes during the fray, and his grey blade turned into scrap metal.
A shade of irked embarrassment appeared on the face of the grey-haired enforcer.
He glanced at the Earth Sword Sect masters restrained by a woman and then over at the Robed Sect Master.
