Xie Jue stared at him, his gaze serene as a peacock unfurled its tail. Two fierce warriors clashed, their blades locked in a deadly dance, battling beneath the darkened heavens. The formidable Dugu Jing, with his sheer physical strength, was every general's worst nightmare.
Fang Chuning's swordsmanship was entirely unlike his appearance—cold, ruthless, with murderous intent in every strike. No flamboyant moves, just precise and lethal attacks, each blow aimed to kill.
A true beauty, as radiant as a jade sword beneath the rainbow's glow.
Dugu Jing matched him blow for blow, his scimitar radiating oppressive force. Each slash carried simmering hatred. In the blink of an eye, they exchanged over ten moves, each bearing a mark of injury.
Fang Chuning sustained a wound to his waist, while Dugu Jing's arm was grazed by a sword. Fang Chuning's black attire concealed his injuries, but Xie Jue's gaze fixed sharply on the blood-soaked mark at Fang Chuning's waist, his eyes narrowing.
