Twenty years of ignorance and chaos, despair, pain, unable to live, unable to die, heavily burdened.
In the midst of the sword fights, it seemed like they finally found relief.
Ling Beichen's sword technique became increasingly rampant and free-flowing, wielding it impulsively.
Rising sword like a towering Cyan Mountain, emerging from the earth.
Falling sword like the sunset over a long river, the sun sets and the moon rises.
Between motion and stillness, both were fitting, and the Taiheng Sword Intent became even purer.
Chu Qing also felt an unprecedented ease, only feeling the blade in his hand swinging ever more naturally.
Things known without understanding why were gradually transforming, probing the roots and uncovering the profound meaning.
The onlookers were increasingly shocked as they watched the battle, increasingly impressed as they watched.
