The young man before him clearly had a far superior talent in offense than in defense, but Zhang Zongyuan had never feared to clash in aggression with others.
No sooner had he picked up the staff did Yang Yan leap forward with his sword ready to attack, his face still mapped with pain.
What met him was a resounding blow from Zhang Zongyuan's staff.
Yang Yan skillfully redirected the staff with his blade and drew near, and in the next moment, Zhang Zongyuan was once again bleeding.
Neither of them held back or retreated. In the narrow gaps between their strikes, their furious aggression clashed. Yang Yan's body was trembling dangerously, like a paper boat in the midst of a storm, seemingly about to fall apart at any moment.
In this deadly predicament, he continued to fight on, even amidst constant danger.
It was not known when the young man would face a fatal blow, however, more and more of Zhang Zongyuan's blood had been spilled during the clash.
