At dusk on February 27, the sun was setting in the west.
After his breakthrough, Jiang Dali had reshaped the four great primal sources of earth, wind, water, and fire within his body. Alarming premonitions continuously surfaced in his mind, rousing him completely awake. His eyes gleamed as his senses stretched toward that familiar aura rapidly approaching from several miles away.
That aura concealed a restrained sharpness beneath the refinement of hardship, like a treasured sword that had endured countless fierce battles, been reforged to repair its chipped edge and missing corners, and been reborn. It thirsted intensely for a hearty battle to test its edge.
"Sword Saint—Dugu Jian!"
Jiang Dali slowly rose. His bare, powerful upper body and sturdy thighs shone bronze beneath the evening light. His bulging muscles swiftly entered a state between tension and relaxation, while the ghastly green hilt of the Dali Fire Qilin Saber on his back glimmered with an eerie radiance beneath the slanting sun. His bearing was as steady and resolute as a rock, and his strong physique displayed limitless power.
He seemed no different from before his breakthrough, his aura not particularly imposing.
It was as though everything that had just happened—the dark clouds and thunder—had been nothing but an illusion.
Yet only he himself knew how powerful he was now, how perfect his current state was.
In such a state, with such surging strength, he had been troubled by the lack of an opponent to test his moves against. Yet now, a formidable adversary like the Sword Saint had come to challenge him of his own accord.
Jiang Dali's senses could already feel the other man's fighting intent and steadily intensifying aura. Clearly, after their first battle in Unrivaled City, this saint among swordsmen had achieved another breakthrough.
What would come