Beneath the ceaseless wind and snow.
Shi Shanwen, resplendent as a heavenly god, streaked through the air in a brilliant golden glow.
From afar, Jiang Wang, his tied-back hair flying, seemed to be racing atop a ribbon of gold. But the soles of his boots were like blades, cleaving that golden ribbon apart and shredding it into streaming shadows.
When pursuing the battered foe, one should press on with all one's remaining courage. In a war between races, no one harbored mercy.
Jiang Wang kept advancing with sword in hand, slashing forward again and again, treating the countless Demon Race warriors as though they were nothing. His eyes remained fixed only on Shi Shanwen. If the Heavenly Sea King died, the battle of Frost Wind Valley could end!
As Sword Qi crisscrossed the air, even the wind and snow withered away.
Shi Shanwen raised his pair of radiant iron fists, blocking left and right as he retreated without pause. He needed only an instant to catch his breath—even one-hundredth of a breath—to return to his own "root," and he would be able to strike back.
But Jiang Wang gave him no such chance.
The Ancient King's Way Fist bore the force of heaven collapsing, brilliant and boundless. But now its fist peak had been shaved away and two fingers severed; the kingly way was already flawed.
Wherever that force failed to reach, there was always a sword edge like frozen snow.
Every step back brought dozens, even hundreds, of exchanges. His radiant boxing art, like a Golden Crow patrolling the sky, seemed trapped within a prison of swordsmanship. Like a bird caged within, it could not spread its wings. Whenever it was about to erupt, it was cut apart through an opening.
The Human Race's most dazzling genius in recent