At dawn, a long-lost ray of sunlight pierced through the mist.
Chen Yi gripped his sword tightly, its pitch-black blade somber enough to seem as though it swallowed the sunlight.
The dense forest was originally cold and tranquil; he swiftly raised the sword. His figure moved like a hare bounding or a falcon diving, the blade gleaming with lightning, driving fierce winds. In the blink of an eye, rocks and wood flew through the air, and the trees bore dozens of scars.
The sword momentum gathered and dispersed, then coalesced again at one point. With a final stroke, it pierced straight forth like a startled swan, even Hou Kang Sword couldn't help but pull forth a magnificent streak of chilly light.
A single stroke reached Qingxiao.
This was the Qingxiao Swordsmanship, once legendary in the martial arts world.
