Divine Sword Art

Xiang Yang was more interested in taking down Pan Yueban. The magically modified Wedding Dress True Qi erupted fiercely, streams of flame and sparks of lightning bursting across the surface of his protective aura. His presence surged in an instant, like an ever-expanding mass of thunder and fire.

In no more than a moment, Pan Yueban's towering body shook violently. His face was filled with gravity, and he suddenly took a step back, the hard and tyrannical momentum he had displayed earlier vanishing without a trace.

As he retreated, he withdrew his sword and chopped downward vertically. His right shoulder rose, and the blade traced an arc toward Xiang Yang. It was as though he wielded not a sword but a saber. The sword light was cold, like surging ocean waves and thunder crashing through the nine heavens, vast in momentum and mighty enough to overwhelm an army of a thousand.

In a pure contest of True Qi, he knew he was no match for Xiang Yang, so he switched to suppressing his opponent with swordsmanship.

The strength of one's True Qi did not represent the height of one's martial arts. A formidable sword technique could completely break through the limitations of True Qi.

The Divine Sword Art was precisely such a peerless sword technique.

As Xiang Yang understood it, the Divine Sword Art had been created by Yan Nantian. With one slash of the sword, one could sense matchless sword qi that dominated heaven and earth from thirty yards away; one could also shave off another's beard and hair without them noticing a thing. It revealed the miraculous within the plain and power within solidity.

It could be said that Pan Yueban's sword strike looked simple and ordinary, yet it already possessed considerable mastery. Even a massive bluestone chair