Flick of the Finger, Half-God Slain (6800 Monthly Votes Added)

Boom!

Tsugikuni Mumei drew his sword. Man and blade became a single ray of light—endlessly brilliant, endlessly dazzling—making many people shut their eyes instinctively.

Along with the sword light, a fierce gale rose from nowhere, like the howls of ghosts and gods.

Such swordsmanship truly lived up to Tsugikuni Mumei's great reputation!

Many who saw this strike could not help but entertain a thought: perhaps such swordsmanship could even contend with myth.

The vast divine fortune, the countless heroes, the countless splendors—it all seemed to have been poured into this one sword.

Yet Zhao Cheng did not even draw his sword. He merely flicked out a finger, sending a flash of sword light colliding with Tsugikuni Mumei's blade in midair.

Clang!

With a thunderous crash of metal striking metal, a huge mass of air suddenly exploded. Storm winds roared outward, as though a high-explosive bomb had detonated from thin air in the arena.

"!"

Tsugikuni Mumei flew backward. This sacred dais had not been built temporarily; it had been passed down for millennia and reinforced generation after generation. It was made from an exceptionally hard black stone, yet every step he took backward left a large, deep footprint in it. As for the stone that vanished beneath his feet, it had been pulverized into dust the instant he stepped down.

Tsugikuni Mumei had never imagined that his all-out sword strike would fail to withstand even Zhao Cheng's casual flick of a finger.

By his estimation, on his home ground and bolstered by Shinto, his first three strikes should have been comparable to myth.

But reality had dealt his confidence a vicious blow. Zhao Cheng had not even drawn his sword—if he did, would Tsugikuni Mumei be unable to receive even a single strike before being cut down?

"So this is