The courtyard was narrow, but its walls were extremely high, like half of a massive chimney.
He was a Green Face, standing in such a courtyard with his head slightly bowed. He held a long sword rarely seen within Golden Peng Fortress and thrust it out every so often, seemingly never satisfied with a single attempt.
Three whole days had passed, yet the Central Plains swordsman's technique had not warped in the slightest in his mind. Instead, after being reinforced again and again, it had become even clearer.
The Central Plains swordsman's sword was fast, but not so fast that the Green Face could not block or evade it.
The Central Plains swordsman's sword was steady, but most Green Faces who had practiced swordplay diligently for more than ten years could probably reach that level.
The Central Plains swordsman's sword was precise, striking the target's throat dead center without the slightest deviation. To the Green Face, however, that was merely the basic skill required to enter the field.
There was only one thing the Green Face had seen but could not do: striking after the opponent had moved, yet gaining the upper hand.
As an assassin who had honed himself to the extreme, the Green Face's finest skill was finding the initiative. Assassins held no advantage in face-to-face contests; they feared most of all failing to seize the initiative, much less striking after the opponent had moved. Yet the Central Plains swordsman's technique was different. He could actually firmly seize the upper hand despite moving second.
Separated by thousands of miles and having never encountered each other, the Central Plains swordsman's technique happened to counter the Western Regions assassins' ultimate skill.
"He must have some unusual method of judgment, allowing him to see through everything in an instant." Green Face