Logically speaking, the alloy steel sword in his hand, which was also forged from fine steel, capable of cutting through iron and steel, wouldn't notch its blade and, in ancient times, would have been considered a superior weapon.
However, against the pale cyan light of the blade, it seemed no different from tofu.
Easily cut through...
Moreover, Zhou Ping'an also sensed a ferocious aura in the blade, which seemed inexplicably connected to the middle-aged man rushing forward with the sword in hand.
The two seemed to merge into one.
"Whoosh..."
Little Mustache missed with his slash; his body twisted and slid along the wall surface. In just a moment, he was beside Zhou Ping'an again and, facing the swirling wind in the corridor, slashed down once more.
This man's sword handling was extremely peculiar; his sword movements were swift like the wind, and the more resistance he met, the quicker he became.
Zhou Ping'an was also an expert in swordsmanship and spotted it right away.
