"My sword… cannot yet be called the 'Dao'?"
This sentence, like a thunderclap, caused Yue Qingge, who was about to strike again, to pause.
An Jing's voice echoed throughout the heaven and earth, clearly reaching the ears of everyone watching the battle: "Muscles move beneath the skin, likewise, true power moves beneath the surface of heaven and earth."
"It's an invisible force, yet far grander than the surface appearance can contain."
At this moment, An Jing raised his hand, the Life-taking Sword already restored. He casually shook it, and tens of thousands of Sword Qi whistled forth, stirring up clouds and winds: "Most techniques merely make the world bleed, turning into Spiritual Fiend, then use the scabs formed by condensing the Spiritual Fiend to fight."
"This is to mold the Art of Magic with Spiritual Fiend, like shaping pottery with clay, beautiful and sturdy, but ultimately lifeless."
