After the two sword intents clashed for several breaths, they exploded. The powerful shockwave sent Jiang Zhaoxia flying.
Jiang Zhaoxia landed on the opposite bank of the Xi River. He staggered back eight steps before steadying himself. His face had gone pale, blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, and even his right hand, still gripping his sword, trembled.
He stared fixedly ahead. Billowing dust rose from the other bank, obscuring Shen Yue's figure; only his general outline could be seen.
The mountains fell silent. Everyone watched Shen Yue, waiting for the dust to settle.
Soon, the dust cleared and Shen Yue came into view. His white hair fluttered in the wind, and his robes were torn in many places, but he was uninjured. A fierce sword intent enveloped him, and his aura had grown even stronger.
Shen Yue lowered his gaze to the sword in his hand. As his eyes fell upon it, cracks appeared along the blade and spread rapidly. Then it shattered like a mirror, scattering across the ground.
Seeing the Sword God's sword broken, the Qingxiao Sect disciples were all elated.
"Did Elder Jiang win?"
"No, the Sword God doesn't seem to be injured."
"Even if he isn't hurt, how can he fight without a sword?"
"To witness a duel like this in my lifetime, I can die without regrets."
"Their martial arts are incredible. They seem to be on a completely different level from those first-rate experts in the jianghu."
It wasn't only the Qingxiao Sect disciples who were excitedly discussing the fight. Even the pilgrims were caught up in it. In their eyes, even if Jiang Zhaoxia could only draw with the Sword God, that alone would be a tremendous honor.
Jiang Zhaoxia was several generations younger than the Sword God. Even if