"Whoosh!"
The silver sword in Chu Wuyao's right hand pierced through the air, making a sharp whooshing sound and causing the yellow dry leaves around her to rustle.
Chu Wuyao moved her hand continuously, swinging the sword towards the air in front of her, while her breathing became strange, sometimes slow and sometimes fast, following a strange rhythm.
Her actions were slow yet graceful, and coupled with her beautiful appearance, her serene expression and the shining moon in the sky, it seemed as if she was performing an elegant dance.
Time slowly went by and from the sweat that was running off her forehead and the look of exhaustion on her face, it was clear that these strange movements were starting to take a toll on Chu Wuyao's mortal body.
Chu Wuyao could feel every single muscle on her body aching, while she felt as if thousands of ants were crawling and biting on her skin.
