Long Yuan's voice remained as calm as ever, but his right hand tightened slightly around the hilt.
"Since you're willing to go all out."
"Then come."
Zhao Leer—or rather, the second form that could no longer simply be called by that name—gave a laugh.
It was soft and brief, yet the sharpness and cruelty within it were as dense as a layer of cold frost upon a blade.
She moved.
This movement was utterly different from all her previous probing. Her entire body became a streak of dark crimson light, leaving a dark trail across the arena floor where the blood mist corroded it.
She was so fast that space itself had no time to react. As that streak of light swept past Long Yuan's side, her five fingers had already come together like a blade, slashing horizontally at his neck.
Long Yuan raised his saber.
The golden saber spun half a circle, its spine meeting the dark crimson edge of Zhao Leer's palm.
At the instant of impact, the shockwave was fiercer than any before it.
A mass of intertwined golden and crimson energy erupted from the point of collision, transforming into dozens of fragmented beams that shot in every direction.
Long Yuan's right arm was jolted half a foot backward by the blow. A thin, long scratch had appeared on the left shoulder plate of his golden armor, dark crimson blood mist slowly corroding its edges.
Long Yuan lowered his head and glanced at the scratch on his shoulder armor.
His brow twitched faintly—this was the first substantial change in his expression since he had stepped onto the arena.
"Good."
He spoke a single word.
Zhao Leer had already retreated thirty feet away, her ink-black hair streaming behind her like a banner.
She lowered her head to look