"Watch closely. I only have one sword strike."
Zhao Hai's gaze fell on Wang Ye, carrying an indescribable meaning in his eyes.
"In the end, I still can't say the kind of stirring words Zhang Ziliang did."
"For the first time, I somewhat regret that my emotional intelligence is so low."
Zhao Hai suddenly felt a little annoyed.
After holding it in for a long time,
he ultimately only said two words.
"Sword."
"Fall."
The dark clouds in the sky suddenly split in two, as though the heavens themselves had been cleaved apart by a single sword strike.
Mountains and rivers surged.
This sword strike appeared far less imposing than Zhang Ziliang's, yet Wang Ye and Ancestor's expressions grew increasingly grave.
Suddenly, Wang Ye took a step forward and stood before Ancestor.
Then, as energy surged,
a sword wound appeared on Wang Ye's chest. It pierced through his body and even thoroughly shredded his internal organs.
Zhao Hai's body rapidly aged.
Looking at Wang Ye,
Zhao Hai thought seriously for a long time before finally asking, "Was that cool?"
He was still imitating Zhang Ziliang.
It just came off rather awkwardly.
Zhao Hai's emotional intelligence was still as terrible as ever.
Even that sword strike had been somewhat hasty.
There was no earth-shattering spectacle, nor any shock that stunned the world. There was only the savage wound on Wang Ye's body.
Just like Zhao Hai himself.
Decisive, without wasting words.
If he was going to draw his sword, then he drew it decisively.
Once the strike was done, the job was finished.
"The rest is up to you."
Zhao Hai's voice was somewhat hoarse. After taking one last look at Wang Ye, he slowly closed his eyes.
Almost at the same time, Wang Ye, who had looked harmless to humans