And now it was the swordsmanship itself, this feeling of being suppressed, dissected, strategized into oblivion... The old man's mastery of swordsmanship had long stood towering above the "Spirit" Realm, far beyond what he could fathom.
As the thought flashed through his mind, Pei Ye once again took up his sword and attacked, Longsword, Liuli, Chi Fire... The old man's cold blade was like a dragon. Both parties' desire to kill was incomparably intense, Pei Ye gambling with his life, struggling desperately under such mysteriously unpredictable swordsmanship, using Liuli to fight for breaths of respite, his gaze fixed solely on the old man's throat.
As they say, even a fool may sometimes give a wise suggestion, but everyone has only one life.
The level of swordsmanship determines the outcome of a duel, but not necessarily the life or death of the opponents... Pei Ye's left hand hid behind him, he had already exchanged more than ten blows!
