Without waiting for a response, he casually tossed the sound-transmitting box in his hand away.
As he stood up, he had already severed it with a sword.
He paused, the anger in his eyes seemingly still unresolved, and with a backhanded sword strike, he split the still-intact zither that had fallen to the ground.
Thud!
The strings snapped, the body of the zither cracked.
He casually discarded the longsword that had just killed two people.
Clang!
The blood-stained longsword tumbled down the mountain path.
Ge Fei grimaced.
"What bad luck."
He looked up at the sky, contemplating silently for a while.
Then he took a step, continuing his ascent to the mountain top.
At first, his steps were somewhat unsteady, as if hesitating, as if contemplating, but the further he went, the more resolute he became.
Tap, tap, tap.
His boots clattering on the stone steps, finally reached the summit.
