The fierce wind of the fists was bone-chilling, the strong wind hitting his face hard, and he dared not take it head-on.
The long sword in his hand danced like the wind, forming clusters of cold and piercing sword flowers, displaying exquisite swordsmanship while trying to widen the distance.
Seeing Chu Zheng's young age, he did not hold back at all, the sword's light cunning and ruthless, specifically aiming at Chu Zheng's joints, throat, and other vulnerable spots.
For a moment, shadows of people intertwined in the narrow dark alley, with fist auras and sword qi crisscrossing.
Relying on his not yet fully grown muscles and bones, Chu Zheng pushed his movements to the extreme, maneuvering amidst the dense sword qi, facing mortal danger. He dared not take the sword blade infused with mana head-on, so he had to depend on his reflexes to avoid the blade, pressing his fists on the sword's back.
