The sun was warm, and there was no wind as Qin Hao walked with a longsword in hand.
"Kid, you should head back. Young Master Wang Teng is from the Biluo Sword Valley; you can't possibly be his match," an old man on the side of the street advised, unable to bear watching Qin Hao walk to his death.
Qin Hao replied, "My master said my strength is now high enough."
"How high?" the old man asked instinctively.
"As high as a three-story building."
The old man was speechless.
Qin Hao nodded earnestly. "That's what my master told me."
"Fool," the old man muttered, rolling his eyes. He shook his head and said no more.
Meanwhile, Wang Teng, who had been sitting cross-legged at the gate, opened his eyes, which now sparkled brilliantly.
Qin Hao looked up at the vast sky, muttering with soaring ambition, "Oh, mortal world, I, Qin Hao, have arrived."
SWOOSH!
A sword suddenly appeared, flashing with a cold glint. At that moment, the entire street trembled slightly.
