In that instant, the black-clad man had already arrived before him like a ghost. Cold light flashed; the Saber Light drove straight for Yang Zhengshan's throat. At the critical moment, Yang Zhengshan's spear edge moved later yet arrived first. The shaft trembled, letting out a humming drone, like an agile silver snake, as he thrust the spear straight at the black-clad man's chest. The spear tip tore through the air with a sharp scream, as if it meant to rip apart the ink-dark night.
"An inch longer, an inch stronger."
Before the blade could reach him, the Long Spear in Yang Zhengshan's hand had already shaken out a streak of emerald Spear Light, like a bolt of green lightning, wrapped in an unstoppable momentum as it drove straight for the black-clad man's chest.
This thrust shot out with speed swift as a meteor chasing the moon, and a piercing whistle rang through the air.
Not only that, but a dense spear intent also coiled around the shaft—the Self-Only Spear Intent Yang Zhengshan had condensed through years of tempering his spear art, as though it could pierce through every obstacle In Front Of him.
Yang Zhengshan understood with mirror clarity In One's Heart that he had no advantage in speed compared with this mysterious black-clad man In Front Of him, so he had kept enduring without acting. Once he made his move, it would be the killing technique at the bottom of his chest, striving to kill in one strike.
However, the instant that fierce Spear Light stabbed hard into the black-clad man, Yang Zhengshan felt as if he had slammed into an indestructible steel plate.
There came a crisp crack. The Spear Light shattered in an instant, turning into specks of green fluorescent light that scattered into the air. When