"I lost again."
Ai Changyuan gave a bitter smile and admitted it frankly.
The moment he said that, the entire plaza seemed to freeze, falling deathly silent.
Only after a long while did people begin applauding one after another. Then the cheers gradually swelled, until they joined into thunderous roars that shook the heavens.
Wonderful! Simply wonderful!
The two of them had displayed methods that shocked gods and ghosts alike; even ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivators might not have matched them. And that final chase had been an intense collision of mana and tactics, strength and wit.
On a deeper level, it also reflected that these two understood the Great Dao far better than everyone else.
Amid the cheers, Wang Qi relaxed the mana around his feet, slid down along the restriction to the ground, then walked over to Ai Changyuan and pulled out the Kunshan Sword.
Famous swords had spirits—or, to put it in more modern terms, high-grade spell swords came with friend-or-foe identification functions. As a Treasure Weapon, the Kunshan Sword was something Ai Changyuan truly could not pull out himself. While everyone was cheering, he had still been nailed to the ground.
As the longsword was pulled free, Ai Changyuan frowned in pain. Once freed from the spell sword's restraint, he quietly retreated two steps first, lest some severe motion-sickness sufferer vomit all over his head and face—Mao Zimiao's experience half a year ago had spread far and wide throughout Xinyue and Lande. Then he asked another question. "Why was that move called the 'Silver Chariot'? I can understand the silver part probably referring to the color of the sword radiance. But why chariot?"
Wang Qi broke into a cold sweat. "That sword strike was a variation of the brachistochrone in a complex gravitational field... Um, well, you