The smile on Zhu Xian's face slowly faded and she gently drew her sword with both hands.
A clear sword cry echoed across the martial platform as the silver blade left its sheath.
The air itself seemed to sharpen.
Across from her, Fang Lian merely smiled.
Her own sword remained in its sheath.
"I'll make the first move."
Zhu Xian vanished.
A streak of silver flashed across the platform.
The distance of several hundred meters disappeared in an instant.
The disciples gasped.
"So fast!"
The sword descended like moonlight.
Elegant yet fatal but without anyone seeing when she had moved, Fang Lian's sheathed sword had already intercepted the attack.
She stood exactly where she had been moments ago.
"You missed."
Zhu Xian's pupils contracted.
She hadn't, the trajectory had been perfect.
Then why...
She didn't stop to think as her sword danced once more.
Sword light flooded the platform like an endless river.
The arena trembled beneath the relentless barrage.
