Ye Kang thrust out his spear with one hand. The spearhead swept sideways, drawing a streak of white light. Spear shadows bloomed at once, multiplying into countless images that all stabbed toward Wei Changkong in an instant.
Wei Changkong was a master spearman himself, so he naturally handled the exchange with ease. Gripping his spear in both hands, he braced its shaft against his waist and gave it a fierce twist with the strength of his hips, sending out countless precise spear flowers.
In the blink of an eye, it seemed there were only two great spears in the sky, trading blows back and forth. Streak after streak collided and thrust, flashing with cold light.
Spear lights burst like fireworks, churning the fiery clouds at the edge of the sky to pieces.
After several exchanges, Ye Kang couldn't help feeling astonished.
Wei Changkong's mastery of the spear was incredible.
He had to admit it: Wei Changkong's skill was practically divine. Every thrust was precise, with not a single unnecessary angle.
Thrust, stab, strike, lift, deflect, parry, block—each move was the plainest, most basic spear technique, yet every one carried Supreme Killing Intent and boundless power.
Ye Kang was able to hold his own against him not because of his spear technique.
After all, he had only mastered two spear arts: the Four Styles of Dragon Slaying and the Wushe Divine Spear. Though he had digested what he'd learned and become a master spearman, he had simply not had enough time to practice. He had almost no experience in such a head-on battle, so he was forced onto the back foot.
But his body was strong!
There was no trick to it; he was just immensely strong. Anyone who crossed spears with him would inevitably have to withstand his tremendous strength.