These were a hundred blades of sharp, snow-white True Qi, which held a set formation, creating an ingenious design of interplay crafted by the technique's author, then compressed into a small piece.
As such, when they were released, it was like a gale gusting out of a blizzard, their movements tumultuous and unpredictable, making it hard for anyone within to fend off or evade.
This was the difference with the old man's True Qi swords, they didn't shoot in one direction nor could they be maneuvered by someone else, the only influence the user could exert was adjusting the direction of their release to avoid hurting oneself.
The girl opened it right on top of the old man's wound, the resulting violent outburst was predictable.
In an instant, the old man's eyes turned crimson, his chest even showed a momentary visible tremor, blood spraying from the wound onto the girl's cheek. At that moment, it felt like he was being cut thousands of times.
