When Cang Xuan stepped onto the front lines, he was like an ancient sword sealed away for years, suddenly drawn from its sheath.
Swordlight illuminated the battlefield of blood and fire.
The "Broken Blade" assault corps he had been assigned to was an elite unit responsible for attacking and defending dangerous areas. Its members were all psychics and the finest among the gene warriors.
As for him—a man who always carried an iron sword, had merely average physical strength, and practiced "martial arts," a tradition long since deemed useless—the corps's soldiers couldn't help feeling somewhat puzzled.
But that puzzlement turned to shock the first time Cang Xuan entered actual combat.
During an assault on a strategic stronghold, Cang Xuan followed the corps to the front lines.
As soon as they reached their target, Erosion Light Clan warriors surged toward them like a tide. Their twisted forms devoured the light, and the mental contamination they radiated made even the most steadfast psychics feel their resolve wavering, leaving them struggling to resist.
The corps's soldiers immediately joined the fight.
But psychic storms had little effect on the Erosion Light Clan warriors. Even the gene warriors' powerful blows could only make their forms briefly collapse before they quickly reassembled in the darkness.
Just then, Cang Xuan entered the battle with his sword.
Calmly taking a step forward, he casually swept the iron sword in his hand ahead of him.
There was no earth-shaking spectacle, only a pale golden arc of sword intent, spreading soundlessly forward like the rising sun dispelling the morning mist.
Wherever his sword domain passed, the Erosion Light Clan's despair-inducing dark bodies vaporized in an instant, like snow thrown into a furnace.
Even the mind-warping field of mental contamination was wiped out along with them.
With a single strike, one