In stark contrast to Fang Yue's berserk form, Jian Wufeng was pinned to the ground as if bound by invisible iron chains, unable to move.
His body was even weaker, every limb drained of strength, and he was utterly exhausted.
With one side rising and the other falling, Jian Wufeng faced a desperate predicament unlike anything he had ever experienced—a first in his life!
The feeling that death was right before him, the suffocating sense of danger, the certainty that in the next second he would be reduced to ashes, leaving not even a trace of his bones—all of it made his heart pound violently and his mind go blank.
He was Jian Wufeng. The peerless sword cultivator who had once dominated the Capital City, stood high above all in the Qing Kingdom, and served as the Sect Master of the Heavenly Sword Sect. A Rain-grade expert—he was about to die here!!
At this final moment, this moment of utter despair, there were only six words in his mind!
"Lord Heavenly Sword, save me!!"
And almost as soon as the thought surfaced...
Crack!
A crisp sound rang out. Even amid such chaos, it was startlingly clear!
Then...
The sword broke.
The Heavenly Sword, passed down through dozens of generations of the Heavenly Sword Sect, feared by countless people across the Qing Kingdom and hailed as the nation's greatest sword, had broken.
It had split down the middle, into an upper and a lower half.
The Heavenly Sword broke suddenly, strangely, and despairingly.
Jian Wufeng's eyes flew wide open. His gaze went vacant, and his thoughts fell into a blank.
Hum!!
When he looked up, dazed, Fang Yue—fully armed—had already dived right in front of him. The pitch-black sword in his hand pierced straight through Jian Wufeng's chest.
In his helpless