The clash of fist and palm against the blade rang out like the sound of metal striking metal.
You could hear ding ding ding, a continuous clamor.
In the blink of an eye, over thirty moves had been exchanged.
Finally, Zhang Fang took a step back, and the cook also sheathed his blade with one hand, stepping back into the ranks of three.
Zhang Fang glanced at the cook, then looked down at his own palm, which was covered with white marks, some even tinged with blood.
He couldn't help but coldly smile:
"Heaven Slaughter Demon Sword?
"I wondered who it was... Turns out it's the once renowned Demon Blade Blood Floating!
"But, I've long heard that Blood Floating's Mad Demon Sword, as furious and ghostly as it once was, seems no longer so fearsome today."
The cook laughed heartily upon hearing this:
"Our honored guest jests. Over the years, I've cultivated peace and tranquility, long forgetting titles like Heaven Slaughter Blood Floating.
