CLINK! As the sword light vanished, the Beast Race Sword Saint's figure emerged from the dust and slowly took a step forward.
A cold wind blew.
The three flags on his back fluttered.
The Beast Race Sword Saint.
He held the title of the greatest sword of the foreign races.
His strength was beyond doubt, just like that last strike.
The moment he struck, he already knew the outcome.
Gao Neng was dead for sure.
Because when he had unleashed his strike, Gao Neng hadn't tried to flee immediately. Therefore, once the blow landed, it was impossible for Gao Neng to still be alive.
This wasn't a deliberate boast, but a confidence born of strength.
It was like shooting hoops. If you've sunk a million baskets, you know the moment the ball leaves your hand whether it's going in or not.
"Gao Neng, aged eighteen, died by my… the hand of the Beast Race Sword Saint!" After taking a step, the Beast Race Sword Saint had already sheathed his sword.
