CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG—!
The sound of metal clashing exploded once more, sending sparks flying.
Zhao Ping grunted, staggering back several steps and carving deep grooves into the road with his feet.
The right arm he used to hold his blade trembled slightly. The web between his thumb and forefinger had split open, and fresh blood dripped down the hilt.
But Fang Han remained completely still.
"Impossible…"
Zhao Ping gritted his teeth, his voice hoarse.
He was at the Late Stage of Third Grade, and his combat prowess ranked among the top of the Third Grade Elders in the Pavilion.
Yet this young man, barely twenty years old, made him feel an insurmountable gap between them.
SWOOSH!
Fang Han gave Zhao Ping no chance to breathe.
He swung the Cloud Splitting Sword again. This strike was faster and more vicious than the last.
The Sword Intent not only amplified its power but also unleashed a Spiritual Shock.
