The young man, clad in white, carried a three-foot-long white-edged sword, his long hair parted down the middle and draped over his shoulders.
His skin was fair, his eyes bright and animated. As the Qingfeng breeze slowly picked up, his white garb fluttered.
Any onlooker would have sighed remarking, "What a graceful youth."
With every step the youth took, endless Sword Intent surged around him.
Xu Zimei sat reversed atop the Dark Heaven Tiger, watching the scene with interest.
Feeling the increasingly powerful Sword Qi from the youth, General Zhao's brow furrowed slightly.
He said, "This is a matter of the Tianheng Empire and has nothing to do with you, sir."
"You see, I always love to fight against injustice," the youth in white huffed coldly.
"You're just unlucky to have encountered me."
General Zhao snorted coldly, and the several men in Blood Robes at his side all charged toward the youth.
However, the youth merely smiled faintly and slowly swung his longsword once.
