Come, Let's Fight

"Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, Chen Xin. Titled Sword, rank ninety-seven assault-type Title Douluo. Martial Soul, Seven Kill Sword."

With every word that fell, the teacups in the spectator stands trembled once.

Ning Fengzhi could not help pressing down on his cup lid, feeling the lingering tremor through the porcelain.

Zhou Qiubai held his sword in one hand. White Clothes Sword turned lightly in his palm, its edge catching the light and reflecting his face, calm as still water.

"Zhou Qiubai. Rank sixty-five assault-type Soul Emperor. Martial Soul, White Clothes Sword. No sect, a Rogue Cultivator of the jianghu."

Before the way of the sword, sects were nothing but external things.

Between swordsmen, only the sword mattered, not one's origins.

And now, the young man standing before him exuded an aura he had lost long ago.

"Well said, Rogue Cultivator of the jianghu." Chen Xin raised Seven Kill Sword level, and the blade hummed.

He did not rush to attack. He simply held the sword like that, letting his Sword Intent spread outward layer by layer, advancing slowly, yet unstoppably.

"Five years. Let me see what your sword has gained since then."

Seven Kill Sword left its sheath.

This was no simple draw. The sword leapt from his hand, its body turning a deep, ghostly blue as it trembled.

The light around the blade was stripped away layer by layer, as if even the air itself was parting three inches before its edge.

At the edge of the arena, Ning Fengzhi shot to his feet and hurriedly retreated.

If he did not move back, he would likely be injured.

The true power of Seven Kill Sword did not lie in sharpness, but in severance.

Severing weapons, severing soul skills, severing meridians, severing life force.

All tangible things could be severed