"I thought I would have to use a few tricks to force you out. To think you were arrogant enough to come out with your sword yourself. Little monk, how would you like to die?"
Wu Xuantian had likewise kept the rain from touching him. Holding the Chest-Mind Sword across his chest, he said, "Since you mean to kill me, Xuanyuan Dapan, you will suffer another defeat today, and the soul of another martial artist will fall beneath my sword."
Xuanyuan Dapan roared with laughter in the rain. At the sound, every drop falling across the mountain froze in midair.
Suddenly, all the suspended rain gathered into an enormous tornado. Xuanyuan Dapan swept his sleeve, and the tornado rose from the ground, transforming into a hundred-zhang flood dragon that charged at Wu Xuantian with claws outstretched.
Before the hundred-zhang dragon of rainwater arrived, a gale swept ahead of it, born from the surging and fading energies of the mountain.
Clumps of green trees were uprooted, and boulders flew into the air, yet the gale could not stir Wu Xuantian's snowy monk's robes. He thrust out his sword, like a white cloud drifting across the heavens, or thousands upon thousands of pear trees bursting into bloom after a spring breeze on Sword Mountain's Back Mountain.
The flood dragon writhed, its furious roar sounding like crashing surf.
One man, one sword. He pierced the gale, struck the dragon's skull, and thrust through countless layers of rainwater.
Boom!
The white-robed figure burst out through the dragon's tail. The hundred-zhang dragon's animating will vanished, and it collapsed into a mass of water that crashed down upon the mountain.
Rain fell once more, and the white-robed monk leveled his sword again.
"Xuanyuan Dapan, is that all?"
Xuanyuan Dapan stepped back. He had never seen a