"I think we'll meet again."
When Tian Anping left those words before the End of the World Terrace, probably no one imagined they would come true so quickly.
What people took for empty pleasantries was merely an honest account of his feelings.
No one could make sense of why Tian Anping, whom Cao Jie had already persuaded back to Jueming Island to recover from his injuries, and whom Lou Yue had indeed beaten into grave wounds, had somehow run off to the Ghostface Fish Sea again. Run right before Jiang Wang and provoke his displeasure.
If one had to put it that way, he resembled a "bad child" deliberately picking a fight in private, wanting to continue the conflict he had been unable to pursue before the parents.
Jiang Wang did not indulge him.
With a single word—"Scram"—ten thousand zhang of raging waves exploded upward.
The moment his killing intent stirred, he wielded sound patterns as swords and unleashed ten thousand blades.
Millions upon millions of crystalline little swords of sharpness skimmed over the water like light boats. They raced through the waves, wove through the Heavenly Sea, each displaying a different sword form, intertwining into unparalleled devastation!
Every sword form was a pinnacle that ordinary cultivators could never reach in their lifetimes.
The Jambu Sword Prison rose with the sound, chasing onward like surging waves. It unfolded all the sword techniques and killing arts Jiang Wang had honed day after day along his journey, ceaselessly accumulating, ceaselessly casting off the old and bringing forth the new.
Whether intricate or simple, all lay within the Dao.
Far from afraid, Tian Anping rejoiced. Raising his shackles, he howled, "Yes! It should be so! Leave the final battle before you lose yourself to me, Tian Anping! Don't you dare disappoint me!"
Call