"But... you are still not enough to kill me. Yet I will still kill you and keep your sword for myself."
"You think you can escape?" Mirai sneered.
"You think you can really trap me?" the old man sneered back. Then, before Mirai's astonished eyes, the old man directly transformed into a long blade, as though shapeshifting. Yet this blade was identical to Mirai's—the one the old man had taken when he attacked and killed Mirai earlier.
This was naturally not a transformation, but a real long blade. After Mirai cut it into two pieces, the two swaying blades were made of sword qi, yet the old man's voice still rang beside Mirai's ear.
"Young man, you're still a little too soft-hearted."
"Damn it!"
The old man had fled, but even after escaping, he had not forgotten to mock Mirai. That bit of malice directly provoked Mirai into cursing.
"Young man, do you know what it means to rely on words? Do you know how to write with words? Do you know when this word appeared, and what its true meaning is?"
The old man's faintly smug voice rang by Mirai's ear, as if he took great pride in Mirai's anger.
In this situation, Mirai could only remain silent. After all, no matter what he said to the old man, it would be futile. Besides, after all that, Mirai truly did not believe the old man had not done it.
"Young man, compared to me, you really are too soft-hearted. Hahaha."
The old man continued mocking Mirai, his triumphant tone becoming increasingly obvious.
"If mocking could win this battle, I think you'd at least make the top three."
Mirai's expression turned cold. Then he suddenly chuckled and said softly, "Oh..."
"What are you laughing at?" the old man asked