"My body is fine now, so don't worry." As soon as the young man finished speaking, he coughed twice more.
Uchiha Madara looked at the young man's sickly appearance and shook his head helplessly.
Uchiha Madara truly felt a little reluctant to make a move now. Such a formidable person ought to have possessed extraordinary talent—a heaven-blessed genius—yet he still could not overcome illness.
"Then if you can't endure it later, tell me immediately," Uchiha Madara said.
"I wouldn't want a future star of the Elzeran Continent to die by my hand," Uchiha Madara said with a smile.
"Not at all. I'm no future star. I'm just an ordinary person." The young man felt a little embarrassed at Uchiha Madara's words.
"But one of us has to win in the end. Otherwise, I won't be able to get what I want. I've been searching for the sword in Ji Sheng Zhipin's possession for a long time," the young man said.
When Ji Sheng Zhipin heard what the young man said, his face turned deathly pale. He knew that he was absolutely no match for him.
The fights Ji Sheng Zhipin had seen before were merely bloody brawls with severed limbs. He had never seen a battle capable of destroying the surrounding environment. This was truly too powerful, far beyond his imagination.
That enormous stone slab from the arena earlier was something he could not even lift in his arms, yet this young man had sliced it off using only two bandages.
"What's so special about the weapon in Ji Sheng Zhipin's hands?" Uchiha Madara asked.
Uchiha Madara truly could not understand it. Fine swords suited heroes—could Ji Sheng Zhipin also be some incredibly formidable figure?
Uchiha Madara looked at the treasured sword Ji Sheng Zhipin held. Still inside its sheath,