A beam of sword light shot straight for his face. He couldn't dodge in time, only managing to shift half a meter to the side.
"TCHH—"
The sword light struck his shoulder, leaving a bloody gash. His green robes, a top-grade magic artifact, were torn wide open.
He twisted his body to an abrupt halt in mid-air, creating a vortex.
Before he could react, another wave of Sword Intent shot toward him.
One step behind, always a step behind.
One wrong move, and every move is wrong.
From the very beginning, Gu Qingyuan had missed his chance to retaliate, forced into a defensive position.
After just a few exchanges, his body was covered in wounds. A large section of his hair had been lopped off, the rest hanging messily over his shoulders.
Combined with his bloodshot eyes, he looked for all the world like a madman.
The hearts of all the disciples were in their throats.
"PTOO—"
