917, aren't you going to kill me?

Outside the distant curtain of light at the Alliance's encampment, Shao Lin and the others had already turned as grim as water.

The strength of Su Juesheng's assassination techniques surprised them, but the swordsmanship displayed by the phantom of Han Muye was completely beyond their understanding.

Who among them could withstand such sword techniques?

Staring at the curtain of light, watching Su Juesheng strike out with another sword, many clutched their fists tightly.

This phantom of Han Muye exerted an immense pressure on them.

This time, Su Juesheng's sword strike was faster than before.

Not only was it fast, but the sword moves also carried a crisscrossing sword light that exploded into a burst resembling the sudden splintering flare of a candle when it reached Han Muye.

However, in everyone's eyes, each streak of Su Juesheng's sword light was extinguished by a clear bright sword edge in front of Han Muye.