Heaven Split by a Single Sword

Jiang Yue had cut off a lock of Di Tian's hair. Di Tian stared at it, momentarily stunned. Even if he had treated their exchange as a game, pulling that off at Jiang Yue's current level of cultivation should not have been easy.

It should have been extremely difficult. Most soul masters of Jiang Yue's age and cultivation would not even have the courage to attack Di Tian.

Di Tian was certain Jiang Yue's mental strength had played a major part in what he had considered a "game." Of course, his hair was also too long. If it had been short, the Unfeeling Sword would never have touched a strand, much less cut one off.

Every inch of a True Dragon's body was a treasure, and that remained true in human form. Dragons possessed terrifying defenses. In theory, a mature dragon's hair should not have been severed by a Martial Soul that did not even have a Soul Ring.

It seemed Jiang Yue's Martial Soul was not as simple as it looked. It must possess some innate ability.

Of that, Di Tian was already certain.

At the same moment Jiang Yue severed his hair, the stabbing pain in Di Tian's wings vanished, as though it had all been his imagination.

But Di Tian knew that unmistakable pain had not appeared for no reason. Everything

must have been the work of the human before him—a human who, in his eyes, amounted to nothing.

"Jiang Yue! Are you all right? Let me help you over there to rest. Di Tian, honestly! Did you have to hit him so hard?"

Seeing the blood still at the corner of Jiang Yue's mouth, Di Qiu'er rushed forward to support him. His repeated protests did no good. He could not break free of her monstrous strength.