Untitled

Meng Fuyao drew her sword. The lightning of the Cleaving Nine Heavens struck from across the sky, cutting through the layer of earth and stirring up the specks of dust and pebbles. Every strike of hers resembled that of a whip with the way it moved.

Her current improved sword technique purely relied on strength but was a combination of power and agility; swiftness and calmness. Within the calmness was contained an unlimited amount of power.

Clang! Cang! Clang!

At the 101st move, Meng Fuyao's blade collided with Yan Taiyu seven times. Every collision targeted the joints of the whip using a slightly different degree of strength and technique. Her attacks were continuous and quick. Finally, a crack appeared on the seemingly indestructible whip. Meng Fuyao, the opportunist, took the chance to strike.

A section of the whip hit the ground.