Zhao Feng remained calm in the face of danger. His legs moved like the wind as he darted diagonally aside, sweeping his spear across to guard his openings. The shaft trembled, unleashing biting spear qi. With a sharp clang, it struck Chu Fan's longsword dead on. A surging wave of force crashed into Chu Fan, leaving his wrist numb and aching. His sword nearly flew from his hand, and his attack abruptly stalled.
Seizing the opportunity, Zhao Feng turned his wrist and flicked the shaft upward at an angle. The spearhead slammed into Su Chi's scimitar with a dull clang. Shock waves scattered, sending broken stones flying.
Su Chi staggered back several steps, the web of his hand splitting open. To his horror, he realized that in the mere months since their battle at the Bone-Eating Shoal, his opponent's strength had advanced by leaps and bounds again.
He immediately shouted, "Hall Leader Chu, neither of us can hold anything back if we want to take this bastard down! Otherwise, we're both finished!"
Chu Fan's expression darkened. Zhao Feng, whose root bone had once been far inferior to his own, an obscure nobody whom no one had thought much of, had already grown this powerful. The days when he had been surrounded by followers while Zhao Feng went ignored were still vivid in his mind. In less than two years, Zhao Feng had become a Banner Officer of the Martial Suppression Bureau and a True Disciple of Nine Suns, surrounded by admirers, while he himself had become a Demonic Sect Hall Leader who could never show his face in the light.
"Everything you have should have been mine!"
Savage fury surged through him, and his swordplay abruptly changed. His sword qi carried blood baleful qi as he unleashed a chain of