Chapter Eighteen: Using One's Own Method Against Them

Dao Lord Hong Jian did not believe it. It was impossible. How could someone who had seen it only once wield it at a level higher than that of its creator? Impossible. Absolutely impossible.

In the way of the sword, only the Worldlord Ye Qingcheng could surpass him. No one else could possibly do so.

Even as he refused to believe it, Dao Lord Hong Jian felt a tremor of fear in his heart. The pressure the White Robed Man placed on him was simply too great. It overturned everything Dao Lord Hong Jian knew. How was this possible? Absolutely impossible.

I am the genius—the genius who created an unparalleled swordplay. How could there be someone even more talented, someone who could remember it after seeing it once and even improve it?

"Boom~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~!"

The Great Flood Sword Aura of the two men clashed. With a deafening boom, space shattered at the tips of their sword auras, and the force of their collision canceled each other out.

It seemed like a draw, but the shattered space extended a little farther from the sword tip toward Dao Lord Hong Jian. In other words, Emperor Xuan Sha had actually held the advantage in that exchange.

The same swordplay—the swordplay created by Dao Lord Hong Jian—and yet Dao Lord Hong Jian had actually been beaten by a hair?

How was that possible? Nearly everyone who understood what they were seeing squeezed their eyes shut for a moment. How could this be? Could the White Robed Man also be a master of the sword, an unparalleled figure countless times more formidable than Dao Lord Hong Jian?

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Dao Lord Hong Jian cried out in disbelief.

In the distance, Ye Qingcheng's brows furrowed slightly. He could see that Dao Lord Hong Jian had begun