Fang Xingjian’s eyes burst open, filled with murderous intent. Goodness knows when he had appeared, but a man shrouded in darkness stood before him.
If not for the man having spoken, Fang Xingjian would not have noticed that he was right in front of him.
“Who are you?”
Fang Xingjian turned serious, his right hand slowly creeping towards the longsword at his waist.
The man exuded an air of unfathomable vastness and depth. Merely staring at him took Fang Xingjian half of his energy. The way he sent prickles down Fang Xingjian’s back in particular made the latter feel as if the man would lash out anytime, giving him the illusion that each strike would tear him into pieces.
He knew that the opponent was one of the strongest he had met ever since he had come to Miracle World. Even Huang Lin, who had taught him sword arts everyday, might not be stronger than him. The pressure this man gave out was much much greater than the one made by Huang Lin.
