Boom—
A pitch-black cannonball hit the ground.
No, it was a pitch-black brawny youth who fell from the sky, skillfully dissipating the force upon landing to a steady touch down. Cen Zhuangzhuang always had this kind of style; having studied at home for two years, it wasn't that he couldn't practice Sword Control.
It was just that he found Sword Control too inefficient.
"Cousin sister, look."
The youth who landed stood next to a charred dead tree, reached out to touch the nearly carbonized wood, which crumbled to pieces with a rub, and knelt on one knee, staring at the several sword marks on the ground under the moonlight.
Usually, the naive-looking Cen Zhuangzhuang now appeared like a mature adult, with a low voice, analytical and meticulous.
"Sword, Thunder, Moon, Shadow... And soul energy, looking at the marks, the clash between the two sides must have been brief, a few exchanges at most, but the power was immense, especially the sword expert."
