The last stroke was like the final brushstroke of a picture scroll. Within the Yin Yang sword formation, the messy sword rays formed a complete ring.
The roving Yin Yang grass swords slowed down and time seemed to stop at this moment.
The ring, made up of disarrayed sword rays, was like a nest built of tree branches picked by a bird. It emitted a delicate light ray that shone on the stationary Yin Yang grass swords, making them appear like a flock of motionless birds.
The fine and drawn-out whistle burst forth from deep underground, as if a monster had been awakened.
The next moment, the Yin Yang sword formation seemed to have sensed danger and started spinning wildly. The Yin Yang grass swords brought wave after wave of turbulent flows. The black and white, criss-crossed flows were like black and white fishes, advancing dauntlessly toward the disordered sword ring.
