Progress

It felt as though a world that had once been perfectly ordered had suddenly been tossed into utter chaos by an invisible hand.

Gritting her teeth, she thrust out her sword again.

She put every ounce of strength into this strike.

The sword light arced like a rainbow, shooting straight for Xu Wuyi's throat.

But just as the sword tip was about to touch that layer of blue light, her mind suddenly went blank.

It was not that she lost consciousness, but that she lost control over everything.

She did not know who she was, what she was doing, or where the sword in her hand was supposed to strike. All order, all rules, were burned to ashes in that instant.

The sword light scattered.

Zhao Qingwei stood where she was, her eyes vacant, the longsword in her hand hanging limply at her side.

Xu Wuyi looked at her and knew the outcome of this spar had already been decided. With a thought, the blue flames vanished at once.

Zhao Qingwei's body trembled slightly, and clarity gradually returned to her eyes.

She lowered her head to look at her hand, then at the sword in it, then at Xu Wuyi across from her before slowly speaking.

"What exactly is this?"

Her voice was soft, carrying a trace of exhaustion she could not hide.

Xu Wuyi fell silent for a moment before saying, "It burns away the order within the target, throwing them into chaos. The longer it lasts, the more thoroughly it burns."

Zhao Qingwei remained silent for a long time after hearing that.

She recalled that feeling just now—the feeling of losing control over everything, the feeling of not even knowing who she was.

It was too terrifying.

If this had been a real battlefield, she would have died