His opponent was an experienced swordsman. His swordsmanship had its own ideas and intentions, and he had even condensed his own Sword Intent. He could be called a master among masters, utterly different from Zhang Yang and the other Eighth Tribulation True Immortals!
The sensation of passing years, and the sudden shock brought by thinning hair at the temples, were all hidden in his expression. That kind of fusing the sword with emotion was something an ordinary swordsman could never accomplish! Faintly, the sound of an old bird, carrying the sense of decline, suddenly reached me through my hazy Sword Intent. The falling yellow leaves I had shaped within it actually began to grow tattered and aged one by one, or even started burning constantly!
At some unknown point, the sword realm I had shaped had gained an additional sorrow-white river beneath the slanting sunset in the courtyard. It flowed faintly, dyeing the wild grass on the ground a gray, withered color!
Looking at every scene and object, I actually felt the vicissitudes of an old year. This was clearly Lei Zheng's true Sword Intent! However, he had merely taken advantage of my Tianyi Imperial Technique to perform his sword ahead of time. It had not lasted long. In only an instant, my complete sword song rang out in a soaring chant.
In that instant, my Dao Heart stabilized once more. The decline of dusk, whether caused by that sense of decay or influenced by my broken state of mind, gradually began to shed thin blood-colored flowers. These falling flakes in the hazy mist were bone-chillingly cold, as though entrusted with the sorrow of parting and a song of farewell, making the entire scene even more desolate.
"Perhaps the Dao Heart will drift away with the clouds; a lifetime of