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Having slain three men, An Jing's white robe with golden trim wasn't even stained with blood, not even the blade of the Mysterious Iron longsword had a smudge on it.
Had he used a weapon, he certainly would have killed all the coming enemies without any mishaps. No one, not even the Gray Cloak Warriors, had any doubts about that.
But what about barehanded?
Understanding An Jing wanted to capture someone alive, the Gray Cloak Warriors still felt an intense shame. They roared and brandished their swords, determined to leave a mark on An Jing even if it meant death!
But the answer was clear.
Even in death, it was impossible.
Whoosh!
As enemies from all sides simultaneously swung their blades, An Jing suddenly bent low. This bending was not a bow nor a prostration, but his entire body falling freely as if slackened, completely relaxing his body.
In everyone's eyes, An Jing's upper body vanished in an instant; all swords missed their target.