This was the battle instinct honed over three hundred years of cultivation, and the only response that might be right under the circumstances.
Yet at the same time, an absurd chill rose in her heart:
She was a mighty cultivator at the Integrated Realm, powerful enough to found a sect of her own, and she had personally come to kill a junior. It should have been as easy as crushing an ant.
On the surface, she had come to avenge the sect's disciples. In truth, she was also after the legendary Innate Spirit Body.
But why wasn't Wang Xian running? Why was there no fear in his eyes?
And why was his sword... faster than her thoughts?
"Clang—!!!!!"
The clash of metal rang out like a bell shattering in the heavens.
The sword aura Chen Huairu had formed from her life-bound spiritual energy exploded in an instant. The Autumn Water Sword that had accompanied her for hundreds of years flew from her grasp and shot into the sky, turning into a speck of cold light that vanished into the clouds. She could no longer sense it.
The sleeve on her right arm was utterly shredded, and fine bloodstains covered her entire arm, as if invisible sword energy had slashed it a thousand times.
What nearly shattered her Dao heart was—
She clearly hadn't even swung her sword yet, but her opponent's blade had already fallen.
It wasn't fast.
It was her "present" colliding with the "future" her opponent had already cut into being.
The sword light faded. Wang Xian still stood where he was, Like Wind angled toward the ground, a drop of blood slowly sliding from its tip.
It was blood from the cut between Chen Huairu's thumb and forefinger.
There was neither sorrow nor joy in the young