Old Hai Wei originally thought that Ye Ling had a sudden attack of conscience and was immediately reminded of the spirit of Western swordsmen.
Honor, chivalry, a fight ended with one's own or the opponent's name being acknowledged, even in death, it was the highest of glories.
Ye Ling nodded, his expression grave. Across from him, old Hai Wei took a deep breath, and the longsword he held aloft suddenly burst forth with a dazzling Sword Qi, that howled through heaven and earth.
"Ah! Come on, let's fight, Huaxia lad, let's have an honest battle!"
With those words, Ye Ling's face took on a tragic look as he gazed at old Hai Wei, thinking to himself, this old guy is really missing a few screws.
With a crack, Ye Ling quickly covered his ears, as a huge thunderbolt struck right on his head, only to be absorbed by his formidable physique.
On the other hand, old Hai Wei, sword held high, was still shrouded in crackling lightning, flickering incessantly like little tadpoles.
