Water, Flood the Heavens was broken. Xiang Yang was not surprised; instead, he was even more delighted. He gave Shui Wuhen no chance to take turns. Cold Qi gathered in the palm of his lowered right hand, swiftly condensing into a pale, narrow, slender ice saber four feet long. A red line ran through its center. It was harder than diamond and sharper than a peerless blade; even when clashing with a divine weapon, it would not fall short.
This ice saber differed from the usual realm of using all things between Heaven and Earth as blades. It contained a wisp of Xiang Yang's Essence, Qi, and Spirit, while the medium attached to it was an ice saber formed through extreme compression. It was likewise a manifestation of the Myriad Manifestation Divine Skill of Self-Liberation.
Wisps of cold air curled like smoke around the ice saber. Its edge carried a bone-chilling gleam that seemed capable of slicing skin. Gripped in his long, jade-like hand, Xiang Yang wore a cold expression, his face like frozen ice. He lightly stepped forward, crossing space in an instant, and cleaved vertically down along the line of Shui Wuhen's brow. The saber wind was fierce, its momentum like a rainbow piercing the sky.
Though it was merely the most common move in saber techniques, Forcefully Splitting Mount Hua, in Xiang Yang's hands and with his Heavenly Saber cultivation, it was still a peerless saber art. Its follow-up moves were endless, its transformations impossible to fathom, and its power unparalleled.
Facing Xiang Yang's descending ice saber, Shui Wuhen's pupils contracted. He stamped his foot, suddenly unleashing hidden force. His azure robe fluttered as he shifted his body more than a foot to the side, barely evading the strike. Had he been off by the slightest fraction,