Xin Wuming jumped away with his entire body burning. With a cry of agony, he dropped and rolled on the ground to douse the flames. After some time, he finally succeeded. He lay on the ground, panting. His fabric cloth had been burned to dust, his armor was charred, and his skin was covered in burned marks.
"You are too weak," Amon said. "The sword isn't willing to accept you as its master."
Amon's statement hurt Xin Wuming's pride. He might be submissive to Amon, but Amon was the only one he afforded this state of yielding. To everyone else, he was extremely prideful. It was even more so to a non-living object. He couldn't accept being rejected by a mere sword.
He rose to his feet and walked back to the Dragonfire Sword. Amon didn't stop him.
