Shen Yuxi changed tactics. He no longer pressed in close, and with a flick of his sword-wielding wrist, a frost-white arc shot free from the blade. Lightning continued to crackle along Ling Anhe's spear. He had no desire to suffer the same loss twice.
The Sword Qi skimmed along the bluestone of the arena like a swallow skimming over water, darting straight for the bend of Ling Anhe's knee. Ling Anhe swept his spear across to block it. Lightning flared brilliantly along the shaft, intercepting and shattering the Sword Qi in midair.
Lightning coiled around Ling Anhe's side, and his gaze darkened slightly.
"He doesn't want to keep fighting at close range."
That last round of rapid close-quarters attacks had been dangerous indeed. Shen Yuxi's every sword stroke had been tricky, every move aimed to kill. But danger cut both ways. His own lightning was no decoration either; every arc had left scorch marks on that man's body.
Shen Yuxi feared the lightning strikes. That was why he had opened the distance and used Sword Qi to pressure him.
Ling Anhe was no fool either. That previous barrage of close-range attacks had shown him just how tricky, swift, and difficult to defend against this man's sword was. Shen Yuxi had already been fast to begin with. If he were allowed to roam freely within this ten-zhang space and strike at leisure, then even with lightning protecting his body, Ling Anhe would inevitably have moments of weakness.
The bloody line at his neck still throbbed faintly. He tightened his grip on the spear.
—He could not let him have his way.
He stepped forward of his own accord, dragging the spear tip across the ground. Lightning plowed a charred black trail into the bluestone.
Shen Yuxi retreated a step, and Sword