SCREEECH—The bite didn't land true, but a sickening grinding noise still rang out as seven or eight distinct teeth marks appeared on both sides of the Magic Sword.
"Ptui!"
Feeling his own canines had come loose, Su Zhou spat out a mouthful of scraped-off steel filings mixed with blood from his gums as his rapid Regeneration Power stabilized the roots of his teeth. He looked up at the grim-faced National Preceptor, who now had a fist-shaped imprint on his chest, and said in the most malicious low voice, "Your weapon isn't very good quality—and you're pretty fragile yourself."
