"However, you could only manage to ward off one move!" Cheng Haohan sneered, then, with a swift motion, unleashed a total of forty-nine swords.
Forty-nine swords in the span of a single breath.
It was as if he were in a transcendent state.
Terrifying, to the point of causing goosebumps.
Cheng Haohan's reputation in Great Cang City was not unfounded.
It was well-deserved.
After Cheng Haohan released the forty-nine sword shadows, Jing Yuan's expression grew even grimmer.
His figure moved elusively, almost like instantaneous movement, leaving behind afterimages. Drawing the sword, striking, striking again, and sheathing it, the sword shadows were invisible, only the shrill sounds could be heard.
In an instant.
Jing Yuan stopped.
But!
Upon stopping, his complexion was visibly pale.
And on his arm and shoulder, there were sword scars deep into the flesh and marrow, oozing with blood, strikingly conspicuous.
The sword in Jing Yuan's hand had also broken.
