"Zhao Yun, hand over your life!"
"Die!"
The Sky Demon Race grandmaster swung the Snowflake Sword. Amid snowflakes dancing through the sky, sword light suddenly erupted, followed by blades of light that filled the heavens. The powerful blade aura made even the White Horse Cavalry—men who had charged through battlefields without fearing armies of hundreds of thousands—change expression.
Zhao Yun drew a deep breath, leaped into the air, and stood against the wind like the most carefree immortal beneath heaven and earth.
The Sky Demon Race was not stupid. They knew Zhao Yun had once led eight hundred cavalrymen and nearly forced the barbarian chieftain into a dead end, so from beginning to end, they had guarded against him trying to capture the leader first again.
They had even deliberately lured Zhao Yun and the White Horse Cavalry deep inside, intending to reveal the true prowess of the Sky Demon Race cavalry at the crucial moment.
If anyone learned of these carefully laid arrangements, no one would believe that the disappearance of the Myriad Ancient Crimson Cloud Mother-Child Sword had been a mere coincidence.
In truth, Zhao Yun understood perfectly well. When Ye Nishang had given him the sword, he had never thought much of it. If he could not even trust Ye Nishang, then he would feel like a complete failure as a man.
But reality was this cruel. Trouble had arisen in the one place where it seemed least likely.
The Sky Demon Race's two grandmaster weapons struck at once, putting enormous pressure on Zhao Yun. If he slipped even slightly and died in battle, the Heavenly Sage Sect cavalry, who had been charging forward like a force that could shatter anything in their path, and even the White Horse Cavalry would immediately fall into danger.
"Bring me