Mo Tianyuan froze.
He looked down at his own hand, where a split had torn open at the web of his thumb, seeping blood.
The block with the back of the blade just now had not carried heavy force, but it had struck precisely at the joint where his grip on the sword was weakest.
This person's saber art had reached such a refined level.
Three Blades did not seize the momentum to press the attack, simply standing in place with his saber hanging down, resuming his defensive posture. His breathing remained steady, not even a single drop of sweat on his forehead.
Mo Tianyuan's expression shifted from shock and anger to ashen fury.
He knew he could no longer drag this out. The Torrential Rain Sword Art was most taxing on vital blood, and he had already driven it to eighty percent, his inner vital blood rapidly consuming itself.
Yet the person opposite him had been on the defensive from start to finish, his vital blood suffering almost no significant depletion.
If this continued, he would be worn down and killed.
Good saber art.
Mo Tianyuan gritted his teeth and squeezed out three words, channeling strength into his right palm to snatch the longsword stuck in the ground from a distance. It emitted a ringing chime and flew back into his hand.
A dark red luster surfaced across the blade once more, more glaring than before.
"This old man has served as an elder at the Azure Province Martial Academy for twenty years, teaching countless students. You are the first to force me to use this move."
He bit the tip of his tongue, spitting a mouthful of essential blood onto the blade.
A dazzling crimson sheen rose over the surface of the longsword, the sword force abruptly surging