This training field was rough and desolate, clearly a place of frequent use, where the air of murder and death lingered year-round.
On either side of the field, weapon racks held all manner of arms: sabers, spears, swords, halberds—eighteen types in all. Every weapon shone brilliantly, signifying their extraordinary quality.
But for anyone visiting this training ground for the first time, their gaze would invariably be drawn to Jiang Wuyou.
Amidst the thunderous noise, a cold gleam flickered.
The valiant Jiang Wuyou now dashed left, then suddenly to the right.
Her halberd was like a brush in her hand, with the sky as her paper.
As she wielded it between heaven and earth, the unrestrained expanse captured a perfect union of force and beauty.
At a certain moment, the booming ceased.
With a casual flick of her wrist, Jiang Wuyou turned and strode out.
The halberd tumbled through the air, stirring the wind and thunder before landing in the hands of an old crone.
