Xuan Ming looked at the man before him, whom he had always regarded as an insurmountable mountain. Gritting his teeth, he suddenly rose to his feet.
"Back then, I was fortunate to receive Master's teachings. Now that your disciple has grown, it is time for me to establish my own sect. I should no longer drag Master and Mistress down. To repay you, I will let Master witness my performance at the Sword Dao Tournament. If Master finds it acceptable, feel free to ask me anything you do not understand. If Master finds it lacking, then I hope you will offer me your final guidance!"
As Xuan Ming spoke, he drew the heavy sword strapped to his back.
The blade looked incomparably weighty, ancient and unadorned from end to end, gleaming bronze. A heavy sword had no edge, and the one in Xuan Ming's hand was naturally the same. It had not been sharpened, yet the instant it emerged, a bloody aura bore down upon everyone.
Even the surrounding spectators, all ordinary people who had never cultivated, felt a chill assault their senses and instinctively stepped half a pace back.
Seeing this, Xuan Ming could not help feeling pleased with himself.
Yet when that chill assaulted the senses, Yun Niang, standing behind Ye Tian, found it silently dissolved by his aura.
Xuan Ming only felt that Ye Tian, standing before him at this moment, was nothing more than an ordinary man.
As for why Yun Niang had not been driven back by his sword intent—
He simply assumed that she had lived with Ye Tian for a long time and had already grown accustomed to it before Ye Tian was injured.
"Please enlighten me."
The moment Xuan Ming finished speaking, he raised the heavy sword high. With no flashy movements,