The Blood Saber Sect's second-generation disciples, led by Baoxiang, were by no means weak. Even Ding Dian had believed that he would suffer if he faced several of them head-on, and had deliberately resorted to a sneak attack to secure victory.
Song Qingshu did not dare let down his guard. With a tremor of his inner force, the wooden sword flew from his back, accompanied by a faint dragon's roar.
Baoxiang and the others were badly startled. Taking advantage of their distraction, Song Qingshu stepped in a seven-star pattern, leaving behind only an afterimage. After several crisp smacks, Baoxiang and the others felt sharp pain in their wrists, and the blood sabers in their hands fell to the ground one after another. They looked up in horror, only to find that Song Qingshu had already returned to his original spot, his wooden sword once again sheathed.
As a modern man, Song Qingshu was still unaccustomed to taking too many lives. He had merely struck the acupoints on their wrists with the flat of his sword, leaving them temporarily unable to fight.
"Damn it!" Blood Saber Ancestor was thoroughly intimidated. "This little bastard's martial arts are better than mine. This is going to be troublesome."
Wei Xiaobao, standing nearby, was even more dumbfounded, his entire body trembling violently. "Now that's a real master! If I had him backing me up, what Empress Dowager old witch, what Divine Dragon Cult Master Hong, what Teacher-Nephew Chengguan... they'd all be nothing!"
Song Qingshu was quite satisfied with Wei Xiaobao's reaction. He had intended to borrow Wei Xiaobao's influence, so naturally he needed to leave him awestruck by his strength.
Blood Saber Ancestor, however, found himself in a difficult position. He had come determined to succeed, yet his opponent's martial arts were clearly superior to