Ao Cangsheng had continuously bid 306 pounds. Every action was swift and powerful, yet perfectly executed.
Initially, Luo Shuyun managed to withstand the arrogant onslaught.
But then, the swords swarming him multiplied, and in an instant, hundreds of blades slashed him down, compelling him to surrender the wine bottle or retreat in shame.
Not only did every sword strike mark Luo Shuyun's hand, but even his wide mouth couldn't gasp for air for a moment.
Other than clutching them, his hands, muscles, and bones were subjected to electric shocks, pain, and numb training.
It seemed as if this deluge of strikes was not from a mere Sword Holder, but a mountain-like giant.
After several defensive blocks, Luo Shuyun's hand throbbed in pain, almost breaking.
Yet in these few days, the attack from Aocang Spirit hadn't abated, instead rising steadily.
In this scenario, although some faces turned unpleasant, it was much better than being crushed and beaten.
