The sword hung in the air and glided through a smooth arc, once again pointing its tip at them. It gently rotated its body, seemingly discomforted by the tremor from the recent clashing of swords.
"Demon... Demon Sword!" Kong Lanting finally voiced these two words in a hoarse whisper.
Guan Qianyan stared in horror at the scene before her, shaking her head subconsciously, while in the surrounding thick mist, more unseen edges had encircled them, and the disruptive movements that passed through the fog were no longer chaotic, but seemed to be coalescing into a single, substantial flow.
The waves in the mist spread more slowly but more obviously.
Guan Qianyan, her face pale, glanced back at the boy who was gritting his teeth and clutching his wrist; his tendons and bones had undoubtedly been shaken in the recent collision, and it was unlikely he could unleash a sword strike like the last one again.
And that had been just an ordinary strike from it, and it was just one amongst them.
