Burying the Dead in Grand Style

"That Sword Seizing Style with my hand as the sword was merely a greeting. Next time, we'll settle it with real blades. To let me snatch the sword from your hand so easily—your swordsmanship still isn't up to par." The Nora Samurai gazed at the Blood Saber in his hand, his eyes brimming with intoxication. "It is a fine sword. Only with me will it not be disgraced."

"Is that so?" Shi Tiexin seemed completely unfazed, his voice as steady as ever. "I think yours is more useful. Mine was a little too small and too light. This one suits me better."

Hm?

The Nora Samurai suddenly reached for his waist.

It was empty.

When he turned around, he saw that his Nodachi, sheath and all, had already fallen into the other man's hands. It seemed that while he had seized Shi Tiexin's sword barehanded, Shi Tiexin had also taken his blade—and had even carefully untied the straps around its sheath.

The Nora Samurai's gaze sharpened. Purple light flared in his eyes, and the crazed smile at the corners of his mouth twisted further. Fine steam actually hissed from his entire body. "Good, good, wonderful! This is exactly what I have been waiting for! Heh heh—hahahahaha!"

As he spoke, the Nora Samurai sank into a horse stance, turning sideways toward Shi Tiexin. Both hands crossed around the hilt as he raised the blade horizontally before him, its tip aimed straight at Shi Tiexin.

Demonic yet refined saber intent spread through the surroundings, soaring into the sky.

Facing such saber intent, Shi Tiexin's expression grew solemn as his large hand gripped the hilt. The Formless Wind stirred, their auras tangling and surging. At this moment, he sensed that this mad-dog-like man across from him had waited far too long—and been lonely