Jian Dong looked at Jiang Xiuwu in front of him, whose battle spirit was surging, and then glanced at the sword in his hand, his face full of sneers.
"The Sword Dao is so noble, yet the trashy Sword Dao inheritance of the Mortal World dares to use a sword!"
Hearing this, Jiang Xiuwu said expressionlessly:
"Originally, I regarded you as an opponent."
"At least, you also use a sword."
"But now, I don't see it that way anymore."
"Oh?" Jian Dong raised an eyebrow.
"Why?"
Jiang Xiuwu said coldly:
"Just based on what you just said, it's enough to show that you are unworthy of using a sword!"
"Today, I will not kill you, but I will sever your arms to rid the Sword Dao of garbage!"
As soon as these words came out, the mocking expression on Jian Dong's face was instantly replaced by a cold murderous intent.
His eyes gleamed with a cold light, staring at Jiang Xiuwu.
"Fine, very fine!"
"To dare say such things to me, face to face."
