Before Chongxu, one circle of light had yet to fade when another emerged. Though his sword moved with extreme speed, there was not the slightest sound of metal cutting through the air. This showed that the suppleness and resilience of his sword force had reached a consummate realm.
Yu Cha frowned. He could no longer discern any openings in his opponent's swordplay, only feeling as though hundreds or thousands of longswords were guarding Chongxu's entire body. Inwardly, he sighed that Tai Chi Swordplay truly lived up to its reputation.
His attainments in swordsmanship ran deep, and he understood that his opponent's purely defensive stance held no flaws. Yet once Chongxu attacked, he would surely reveal an opening. Yu Cha had been planning to wait at ease for his exhausted foe, but the fortress formed by Chongxu's sword edge seemed able to move. Hundreds and thousands of circles of light surged slowly toward him like a tide.
Chongxu was not attacking one move at a time. Instead, he blended dozens of sword techniques into a defensive stance, transforming it into an offensive one at the same time.
Yu Cha's face changed drastically. Unable to withstand it, he could only retreat to evade.
Song Qingshu nodded to himself. Since their last parting after the Battle of Mount Tai, Chongxu's swordsmanship had improved considerably.
In the arena, each time Yu Cha took a step back, the circles of light pressed one step forward. In the blink of an eye, he had retreated seven or eight paces in succession.
Though Yu Cha had not been particularly willing to spar at first, all sword practitioners possessed a measure of pride. He had been renowned for his swordsmanship for many years; how could he be willing to lose to Chongxu in public?
With a turn of