The Sword Momentum shifted from chopping to entanglement. The silver-white sword light slithered like a nimble snake, gliding along the spear shaft as it thrusted rapidly upward, aiming straight for Xu Wuyi's spear-wielding right arm. This change in moves was as smooth as flowing water, without the slightest hesitation. Xu Wuyi lowered the butt of his spear, spinning the shaft with the momentum. The dark-gold spear shaft rotated a hundred and eighty degrees like a wheel, its butt tapping precisely against the spine of the sword.
DING!
The blade tilted, its thrusting momentum broken. Zhou Chen borrowed the force to glide backward, opening up a distance of ten meters. In their first clash of two moves, Xu Wuyi hadn't retreated half a step, his Spear Momentum calm and unhurried.
Zhou Chen landed, the wrist holding his sword tingling slightly. He looked down at the blade of the Jinghong Sword. It was intact, but his heart had already sunk.
