Shen Zhong Cheng spoke no more superfluous words, directly thrusting his sword.
Hong, he drove the sword towards Wen Yi Jian as if the thing driven wasn't a sword, but a mountain of swords, giving people a feeling of extreme heaviness; if pierced by this word, one would definitely be smashed into pieces.
This was White-Robed Sword King's martial intent and belonged to his own way of the sword.
Ling Han nodded inwardly. This younger generation already walked down a path that belonged to themselves; it was no wonder that it was said people on the prodigy roll could definitely become Flower Blossom Tier warriors—each one was certainly out of the ordinary.
Wen Yi Jian's expression, however, was full of disdain, and he unconcernedly pointed with a finger as a powerful sword intent circulated and a flash of sword light flashed. Hong, behind him two wings of light fluttered gently, making him seem like a god descending to earth.