Rootless Slash.
Some people had been born severed from vitality, cut off from perception. Every move they made was silent and soundless, beyond this world's watchful gaze, standing above all manner of mysteries with transcendent skill.
This slash was fast.
So fast that even Jiang Yan had not noticed when his opponent had drawn his blade, nor when he had appeared behind him.
A Liang was like a blade of grass with no sense of presence at all, easily overlooked—yet even its tiny stalk and leaves bore sharp thorns.
The blade whistled, tearing through the sky.
Jiang Yan did not turn around. An imprint behind him automatically blocked the attack.
Then he slashed backward.
Whoosh—
There was already nothing behind him.
A Liang, twenty-nine years old, peak seventh rank. His consummate bladesmanship and speed had instantly made him realize that he could not break through Jiang Yan's defenses.
So he swiftly retreated. Holding the cheap longsword horizontally, his lips seemed to be chanting.
"Drifting. Infinite Slash."
For a moment, the world seemed to freeze, waiting only for countless blade gleams to rise. The cosmic starry sky became a sea of white.
Within that white sea, a blade could vaguely be seen bobbing up and down.
The sky was dim yet radiant,
Until its fleeting splendor fell, and countless dazzling white flowers bloomed across the earth.
The land fell silent.
"Is it over?"
Someone asked while holding their breath.
A Liang said nothing, merely carrying his longsword behind his back.
Clang!
An attack came without warning.
At some unknown moment, Jiang Yan was already standing behind A Liang.
He frowned. The other man's perception was absurdly sharp.
Or perhaps it was a kind of combat instinct.
A blade wielder drifting through the cosmos, with no homeland to return to, accompanied day