The crowd below the stage had strange expressions on their faces.
They all made a mental note: 'Best to stay clear of those two in the future.'
'Too damn devious!'
Dao Ji was a veteran fighter and knew the wisdom of never committing more than seventy percent of his strength. Unburdened by his own momentum, he decisively pulled back and retreated.
This was the difference between a Ghostwriter and an ordinary Sect Disciple.
When Ghostwriters fought, their primary goal wasn't just killing their opponent—it was staying alive.
Any Ghostwriter who had survived for three years knew to save thirty percent of their strength when swinging their saber.
That thirty percent was reserved for retreating.
Bai Yuan's brow furrowed slightly.
'So, once you reach the Strong Organ Pass, ordinary tricks no longer work.'
'Since the Devil's Pepper didn't work, I'll have to do this the hard way.'
