Wang Chong secretly calculated that two or three hundred exchanges had already passed. He thought, This man's swordsmanship is quite good. This sword duel has ground away all the rashness and impatience in my swordsmanship.
But there is no further benefit in continuing. It is time to defeat him.
Yuan Ran was exerting himself to wield his sword, their twin swords clashing, when he suddenly felt a searing force travel through his flying sword. The mana controlling his sword scattered slightly. He inwardly cried that things were bad, only to see a streak of red light fly over and circle his neck once.
Yuan Ran closed his eyes and awaited death. After a moment, however, half his collar fluttered down. He reached up to touch his neck and found it uninjured. Knowing that Wang Chong had shown mercy, his face flushed with shame. He clasped his fist in his other hand in salute, then turned and left the circle.
He secretly thought, A pity I lost by one move. My Fire Dragon Sword Technique is inferior to his. Once I master the Fire Dragon Sword Technique, I will seek him out for another sword duel and wash away today's humiliation in snow.
Wang Chong pressed down on the Crimson Lightning Sword and looked up at the sky. The list of two hundred names had already lost more than ten, all people who had used up their three chances to challenge.
Seeing that Zhu Ying was still on the list, he felt slightly relieved. Just as he was worrying about how her battle was going, a voice shouted from afar, "Martial Nephew Wang Chong! Take my sword!"
Wang Chong hurriedly wielded his sword, sweeping it horizontally through the air. Sure enough, a streak of sword light came flying at him and