In an instant, he rose into the air.
He aimed straight for Pei Jinye's face.
He had nurtured this sword strike for over seven months, having never used it before, originally intending to save the Sword Intent for a year before using it in the grand tournament.
It's just unfortunate that he had to make a move ahead of time.
But he had no choice but to do so.
He had already anticipated that if his opponent attacked or dodged, he should have a countermeasure.
But all his predictions didn't come to pass.
A crisp sound echoed through the valley.
The swordsman's Broken Sword, like a piece of scrap iron, fell heavily into the water, splashing droplets that were instantly stained red with blood.
He stared dumbfounded at the bloody hole in his chest, as the color drained from his face visibly.
"You... who are you..."
"Enter the Dream."
Pei Jinye's response was domineering, simple, and direct.
The swordsman's expression changed.
He had no chance to take his last action.
