The air suddenly felt charged with tension, and the sound of metal clanging against metal echoed loudly. The lady gritted her teeth and lunged forward, determined to take down Yan Xing, but no matter how much she tried to counterattack, Yan Xing was always one step ahead.
The metallic clang of their swords filled the air, but the sound was not a harmonious one. It was harsh and jarring, like the crackling of thunder on a stormy night. The lady could feel the sweat beading on her forehead, trickling down her temple and stinging her eyes. Despite her best efforts, Yan Xing disarmed her with ease, sending her sword clattering to the ground.
