After everything had settled, a sword scar ten thousand meters long and a thousand meters wide lay across the platform. The platform was now a wreck of devastation, covered in enormous cracks and scattered rubble, no longer as smooth and level as before.
Zhao Fu lay drenched in blood beside the sword scar. His body twitched a few times, and he coughed up a great mouthful of blood before painfully pushing himself up from the ground. His eyes fixed on the Ancient Sword Sect Master with hatred as heart-searing fury surged within him.
One day, I, Zhao Fu, will kill him. The Ancient Sword Sect will be wiped out as well. The pain and humiliation I suffer today will be repaid tenfold someday.
Standing in the sky, the Ancient Sword Sect Master was somewhat surprised. This man had endured one of his attacks and still had not died—this could be considered a miracle.
Facing Zhao Fu's icy, hate-filled gaze, the Ancient Sword Sect Master sneered. "What, furious? You want to kill me? Do you think you can do it? Kneel and beg this Sect Master now, and I'll grant you a swift death."
Zhao Fu glared at the Ancient Sword Sect Master, his hands clenched tightly into fists. His fingertips pierced his palms, and threads of blood trickled out.
Smack!
Seeing this, the Ancient Sword Sect Master gave a disdainful laugh and casually swung his hand. A slap landed on Zhao Fu's face, sending him flying.
Zhao Fu crashed down more than ten meters away and spat out another mouthful of blood, struggling to crawl back up.
Smack!
With a sneer, the Ancient Sword Sect Master slapped Zhao Fu across the face again, knocking him flying once more.
The surrounding people could not help sighing. This was clearly humiliation. For