He Wouldn't Admit Defeat Until All Hope Was Lost

Jiang Wang moved like a thunderbolt, darting away with his sword. Jiang Yan, using the Underworld Candle as his body, gathered a hand from blue smoke and came dancing toward him with a sword.

One sword was like frost and snow, the other like a yellow candle.

One sword was the Sword Spirit made manifest, the other was gathered from the treasure's radiance.

One was the Disillusioned Scholar, and the other was the Disillusioned Scholar as well.

The identical Human Dao Sword Styles collided.

The two swords crossed.

Blade met blade, while the horizontal strokes of their swords sliced against each other.

Their swords turned, and both unleashed the Helpless Sword.

Their sword momentum shifted again, like the morning sun rising. Two scorching sword lights crashed together, and both struck with the sword of Youthful Frivolity.

That strike had already carried them past each other. Jiang Wang turned back, and the Underworld Candle spun around.

Thus the morning sun rose, and the evening sun sank.

He shifted into the stance of Old General's Twilight, its momentum surging forth with no return.

Two setting suns crashed together!

The sword tips pressed against each other, and neither yielded a fraction.

Their sword styles, their choice of timing, even the support they received within the Heaven-Connecting Palace—all of it was exactly the same!

Jiang Yan had completely mastered every sword style Jiang Wang knew, and his understanding of them was no less profound.

How terrifying was that?

The Human Dao Sword Style was the strongest sword art Jiang Wang had comprehended to date. It was truly his own, and the part of him that set him apart most from everyone else.

Yet now it had been perfectly reproduced in Jiang Yan.

If this battle ended in defeat, would anyone be able to tell