Ever since they met, Su Zhenhe had kept his right hand on his sword hilt beneath his robes for most of the time. Xu Yunfan had long since sensed the malice hidden deep within him.
'This sword...'
HUM!
A crisp sound, like a jade bead falling onto a plate, quietly emerged.
The moment the blade left its scabbard, a cold glint flashed like lightning, its pure light illuminating the surroundings and making them seem starkly empty.
The instant Xu Yunfan's knuckles touched the hilt, he felt a sharp pain in his palm. This Three-foot Cyan Blade had yet to taste blood, but the sharp energy emanating from its edge was already enough to cut his skin.
As the spine of the sword fully cleared the python-skin sword scabbard, a dragon-like hum erupted from the bronze guard, causing the stone walls to reverberate with a ceaseless drone.
"What a fine sword!"
Even with Xu Yunfan's current skill in weapon forging, he was still amazed.
