SHIIING.
Zhou Wenhao swept his blade horizontally. The Blood-Drinking Blade sliced through the air like a bolt of blood-red silk, fierce and unstoppable.
He was originally over a hundred feet away from Ning Jiang, but with a push of his foot on the lake's surface, his body followed his blade. He shot forward like an arrow released from its bowstring.
Where the man went, the blade followed.
He showed no mercy with his first move. Aiming for Ning Jiang's waist, his blade struck like a clap of thunder, intent on slicing him in two.
CLANG!
As if it had predicted the attack, Ning Jiang's Wind Chasing Sword was already there to block it. Sparks flew as the blade and sword met, parrying the powerful, heavy strike.
Zhou Wenhao's expression remained unchanged. If Ning Jiang couldn't even take one of his strikes, he wouldn't be worthy of the title Young Sword Sect.
"The saber, the soul of all weapons, is unparalleled in its ferocity and unstoppable in its courage."
