With his eyes wide open, number [1111] could only raise his hand holding his saber half a foot before feeling a warm breath on his left ear.
"You lose," a voice sounded beside his left ear, leaving him scared stiff in the arena.
"When did he get behind his opponent!?"
"I only saw a red flash before he suddenly arrived behind his opponent!"
"You saw a flash? I didn't even see anything,"
"His movement speed is the fastest I've seen in this tournament,"
"If my guess is right, he must be as fast as a newly advanced martial king cultivator,"
"It might not be totally true, but it's close to the truth,"
The spectators were all shocked as they marveled at the movement speed of contender [952].
Feeling the coldness from the sharp edge of his opponent's sword, contender [1111] felt blood slowly tricking down from the tiny cut on his neck.
