The pitch-black iron staff had been burned red-hot, and a notch had appeared in its middle during the recent battle.
Looking at the notch in the iron staff, Zheng Ling gently pressed his right hand against it.
Black flames scorched the iron staff. In less than a moment, the notch vanished without a trace.
Having dealt with the magic artifact, Zheng Ling raised his head and looked at Guan Ping in the distance.
"This isn't swordsmanship. It looks more like saber techniques."
"Though it's somewhat neither fish nor fowl, it does have a few things worth seeing. Where did you learn it?"
Hearing this, Guan Ping held the Broken Sword and said proudly, "I never learned any saber techniques, but I did chop firewood for several months some time ago."
"I can't use swordsmanship to chop firewood, but these few moves should be enough to deal with you."
Hearing Guan Ping's words, Zheng Ling smiled faintly. "The foundation I possess is beyond your imagination. Do you really think you can defeat me with a few petty tricks?"
Whoosh!
The Broken Sword in Guan Ping's hand pointed straight at Zheng Ling.
"You have your pride, and I have my convictions."
"You have read through a hundred thousand pill formulas, while I have refined a hundred thousand furnaces of fake pills."
"You have guidance from famous masters, while I can take shortcuts."
"Whatever the method, it is merely a means for us to reach the peak."
"In this world of cultivation, what decides victory has never been the quality of one's methods, but whether one has a steadfast heart."
"If victory were judged by the quality of one's methods, then I would not be your opponent today."
Looking at Guan Ping's resolute gaze, Zheng Ling nodded. "You're right. The quality of one's