In the eyes of the spectators, the battle between the two was almost imperceptible; they could only feel the thunderous clash, and when they turned to look, all was empty, with only the rocks shaking and waves rising.
Ten consecutive gusts of wind carried the dispatch of soldiers.
The sword in Wang Anfeng's hand remained steady, though his Qi Mechanism had diminished slightly.
Zuo Qiugu stood on the clouds, spear in hand, and said coolly: "Not bad, at your age, I couldn't endure five moves against you. Twenty years ago, I wouldn't have been your match."
Before his voice fell, the short spear in his hand suddenly shot out, unabashedly employing a sneak attack.
