"What do you mean?" she asked.
"First compare blades and swords, then compare spears," Chen Yi responded flatly.
The female Prince did not refuse, simply planting her spear in the ground and drawing the Brocade Spring Blade out of its sheath. Under the dusky sunset light, its curve was stunning, its cold gleam like gold.
Bamboo leaves floated erratically, chaotically.
Chen Yi also drew his sword.
Between the two, there was not a single wasted word.
The blade was out, and so was the sword.
First, Qin Qingluo's figure suddenly appeared before Chen Yi. Her wrist twisted, wielding the blade with her left hand, its light stirring up the mist like a wide white tide rolling forward.
Chen Yi slashed through the white tide with one stroke.
The sword arrived first, and its shadow followed closely behind. Blade and sword collided, vibrating endlessly, the immense recoil shaking Qin Qingluo's wrist violently.
