Zhao Luo's sword kept on falling on the challenging disciple's sword, like rain drops.
The space around the stage itself was enveloped by the sounds of Zhao Luo ramming his sword, Ifrit on the broad sword.
The disciple who was fighting Zhao Luo was stunned as the only thing he could do now was to keep holding his broad sword and pray that Zhao Luo would tire himself out and stop these continuous barrages of sword attacks.
'What's going on?'
The disciple thought as with each strike of Zhao Luo, this disciple was pushed back by an inch or two.
It didn't make any difference even when he used all of his lower body's strength to keep his ground.
'Clang~'
'Clang~'
'Clang~'
Strike after strike, Zhao Luo never stopped for even a second.
In less than five minutes, more than five hundred strikes had already landed on the challenging disciple's sword.
