Zhu Yeqing's forehead was already beaded with sweat. The battle just now had exhausted him, and he had gained no advantage in their verbal sparring either.
His arm began to tremble from overexertion. Even so, his eyes still gleamed with unyielding resolve. Saint Lord Taichu looked at the young man before him and could not help but feel a trace of respect, yet the offensive in his hands did not slow in the slightest.
"Young man, your will is indeed commendable, but battle is not merely a contest of will." As Saint Lord Taichu spoke, he effortlessly deflected Zhu Yeqing's attack.
Zhu Yeqing did not respond. He merely gritted his teeth and gathered all his strength into his next strike. The blade tore through the air with a shriek, aimed directly at Saint Lord Taichu's vital point. Yet Saint Lord Taichu moved like a ghost, easily evading the lethal blow.
"Your swordsmanship may be fierce, but it has far too many openings." Saint Lord Taichu's voice sounded beside Zhu Yeqing's ear. Then he lightly struck out with his palm, hitting Zhu Yeqing squarely in the chest.
Zhu Yeqing felt an immense force crash into him, sending him flying backward before he slammed heavily into the ground. He struggled to rise, but a burst of agony spread from his chest, slowing his movements.
Is it over? A trace of despair welled up in Zhu Yeqing's heart, yet his fighting spirit had not gone out. He knew he could not fall here. He still had an unfulfilled vow and things he needed to prove to his father.
"Get up, Zhu Yeqing! Didn't you want to prove yourself?" Saint Lord Taichu's voice rang out again, this time carrying a hint of encouragement.
Zhu Yeqing took a deep breath, endured the pain, and slowly