Upon hearing this, Luo Wei said no more. He stepped back a few paces, clearing the field.
The onlookers, both inside and outside the surrounding teahouse, held their breath, their gazes fixed on the two men in the center of the field.
"In that case, let's settle this with our skills!"
Before Miao Zhicheng's words had even faded, his right hand was already on the hilt of the oddly arced Curved Saber at his waist.
The blade trembled, emitting a low hum, as if a malevolent spirit was awakening, poised to strike.
Profound Yuan True Qi erupted from his body, and the swirling, cold wind grew harsher, feeling like a blade scraping against one's face.
Chen Qing's expression was calm, his grip tightening on the Cloud-Coiling Spear.
'I've already got my prize. You think I'm just going to cough it back up!?'
'Absolutely not!'
'Not unless an Astral Force master from Golden Sand Castle shows up personally.'
