'He's gone?!'
Zhou Yuanjue's pupils constricted slightly. In that instant, it wasn't that Zhang Dongwei had become too fast, but that within his perception, Zhang Dongwei had completely vanished.
'Did a talisman formed by a Qi Meridian Circulation affect my senses?'
Zhou Yuanjue narrowed his eyes, wary of his surroundings.
Suddenly, a figure shot out from behind him. 'A person?'
'No, that's a sword!'
A Daoist Flying Sword, shimmering with a faint light, was suspended in mid-air as it slashed rapidly toward him!
A convergence of primordial spirit, a condensation of a magnetic field.
The Daoist Flying Sword was no legend.
He had once witnessed a similar technique, back during the Southern fighting tournament.
At that time, an old man nearing eighty, his physical abilities long since diminished, had nearly sundered his Spirit with a "Flying Sword Skill," almost causing him to faint.
