A momentary silence fell over the area, broken only by the lingering hum of the saber and spear and the ragged breaths of the onlookers.
Their figures blurred together once more, saber meeting spear. In the blink of an eye, another twenty-odd moves had been exchanged.
The clang of metal on metal was incessant. Overflowing Qi Force carved countless gashes, deep and shallow, into the ground around the tea shed.
The bloody gash on Miao Zhicheng's chest throbbed with a faint sting.
He had assumed that his fierce and unpredictable Golden Slaughter Soul-Splitting Saber would be enough to quickly dispatch Chen Qing. To his surprise, his opponent's Spear Technique was steady and masterful, his Body Technique exceptionally agile. After a prolonged assault with no success, he was the one who had drawn first blood—his own.
Miao Zhicheng's assault suddenly eased. He feinted with his saber, baiting Chen Qing to advance with his spear.
