Fair
Wu Qi's cultivation reaching the Sixth-Rank Realm indeed left many people astonished. A small number of them even felt that this life-and-death battle held no suspense at all—Wu Qi would surely win.
Lu Zhaojin's gaze was indifferent. Watching Wu Qi erupt with towering momentum, he remained unmoved. His right hand gripped the sword hilt, endless sharpness bursting from his body and colliding with Wu Qi's aura, like two tidal waves crushing against each other, neither able to gain the upper hand.
Wu Qi formed a sword-finger with his hand, true essence gathering at his fingertips. As he pointed forward, streams of light shot from his fingers, like tiny silver needles flying toward Lu Zhaojin.
Lu Zhaojin calmly watched the finger beams draw near. Wu Qi thought he had given up struggling and was waiting for death, but what happened next made his expression change slightly. Those finger beams seemed to have fallen into some kind of force field, stopping before Lu Zhaojin's eyes and advancing no farther—not even half an inch.
A Sword Light suddenly slashed out, turning the finger beams to ashes. Wu Qi did not even have time to react. He merely sensed danger instinctively, prompting him to dodge, but it was still too late. One of his arms was severed.
When had Wu Qi ever suffered such an injury? The agonizing pain left him panic-stricken, and he howled miserably.
The surrounding martial world folk were all shocked. They had not expected Wu Qi to be so weak, nor had they expected him to fail to take even a single sword strike before losing an arm instead.
The Wu Family protector and attendants beneath the stage saw their young master injured, and their faces changed drastically. Disregarding the rules of the life-and-death battle, they leaped onto the