Ye Xuan helplessly closed his eyes.
"Take this!"
A piercing shout resounded, disrupting the long-standing harmony.
The Sword God, who carried himself like withered wood, suddenly drew his blade. With a clanging sound, the blade shone like a rainbow, intimidating those around him, while also revealing an incredibly sharp and irresistible edge that sliced through the withered branch in Ye Xuan's hand.
In an instant, there were countless blade shadows.
The innumerable blade shadows enveloped Ye Xuan like a divine halo, forcing him to retreat continuously, appearing somewhat hasty and embarrassed.
The Sword God's attack was like a tiger, with absolute intent to kill.
In the face of such an assault, Ye Xuan suddenly appeared somewhat inexperienced, retreating constantly, with seemingly no chance to retaliate in the eyes of onlookers.
At once, the previously bustling atmosphere grew strange again.
Gazes converged, and odd voices arose.
