"Clang!"
Yang Ge's Cold Moon Blade in his hand precisely parried the samurai's katana as if it had eyes, and with a quick lunge, he slashed towards the swordsman's wrist holding the blade.
The swordsman rolled away with the momentum of Yang Ge's blade, then turned back and sliced towards Yang Ge's feet.
Yang Ge stepped back and swung his blade to parry the katana.
The swordsman leaped forward like a monkey, shaking his hand to release a brilliant burst of blade light, rapidly advancing close to the ground while aiming his sword at the several vital points below Yang Ge's waist.
Yang Ge continued to retreat, constantly swinging his blade to block the light and swift strikes that felt like a breeze brushing through the forest.
In such a fight, quick against quick in close quarters didn't seem as grand as clashes of sword energies from thirty or forty meters apart, but the danger involved was actually far greater, testing the fundamental skills of the swordsman intensely.
"Rip."