Ji Yunting felt as if his opponent's sword techniques were bearing down on him like a landslide and tsunami, each strike heavy as a thousand pounds, shaking his arms numb, splitting the skin between his thumb and forefinger, with blood dripping along the sword hilt.
His proud swordsmanship, in the face of Chen Ye's violent sword momentum, was like paper, easily torn apart!
"Puh!"
A moment of carelessness resulted in Ji Yunting being struck in the chest by the spine of the Iron Sword. His protective spiritual light shattered instantly, and his whole body flew backward like a broken kite, landing heavily on the ground, spewing a mouthful of blood.
The long sword in his hand flew out of his grasp, embedding diagonally in the snow far away.
"You... you..." Ji Yunting struggled to rise, but felt unbearable pain in his chest, with every bone in his body seeming disjointed, unable to muster any strength.
