As the voice fell, Zhao Zheng's face had already turned ashen.
However, from his left and right, the sound of sword whistles arose. With a solemn and upright Eight-Sided Wooden Sword on one side and a narrow blue Ice Sword only two fingers wide on the other, both swords struck towards Ni Tianxing, stopping less than two meters away, unable to press forward by even an inch. Wang Anfeng and Xue Qinshuang's bodies collapsed powerlessly to the ground; almost simultaneously, lightning and icy flames appeared on the edges of the swords, but in the blink of an eye, they were extinguished.
Amidst a furious roar, the Mo Blade cleaved down from above, its blade shattered by the rebounding force. Baili Feng stumbled back repeatedly, with blood bursting from the webbing between his thumb and forefinger, yet he seemed not to feel it at all, his eyes now filled with hostility towards the Confucian Scholar.
Spitting to the side disdainfully, he said in a cold voice:
"Bastard!"