What was initially expected to be a battle of profound significance in the street, a story that teahouse storytellers could live on for the next decade, an epic saga that would inspire young swordsmen of future generations, and a conflict that could have stirred a tempest reaching even the royal court—all of it was brought to a screeching halt by a blind man's shout.
Everything seemed to have been forcibly paused.
The abrupt halt caught everyone involved off guard. Many of the Silver Armored Guard's elite warriors felt their chests heave, a sign of internal injuries from forcibly suppressing their surging vital energy.
"COUGH, COUGH..."
The Sword Saint's body swayed. He wasn't injured; rather, he was utterly bewildered by the blind man's actions.
Direct Thief! You're a Yan bastard!
