Ling Anhe gripped his spear tightly. Once he understood the principle, he could find a way to break it.
His mind raced at breakneck speed, dismantling, sorting, and deducing everything he had sensed just now.
There were many of those Sword Qi anchor points, scattered across the arena. But judging from Shen Yuxi's two attacks, each attack could only reflect a single mirror image. One sword became two, striking from both directions. As long as Ling Anhe was fast enough and his senses sharp enough, it would not be difficult to evade them all and seize an opening to counterattack.
The question was: was that information real? Or was it merely what Shen Yuxi wanted him to believe?
If that was all there was to it—one sword at a time, one mirror image, a twofold pincer attack—then the hundreds of Sword Qi anchor points Shen Yuxi had laid down were far too extravagant.
With Shen Yuxi's sword, with his style of making every strike pave the way for the next, with the ruthlessness that made him willing to take a spear strike just to nail Sword Intent into Ling Anhe's body, he would never do something that was "merely this."
He was hiding something. Ling Anhe was absolutely certain.
He swept his spear horizontally, wielding the force of thunder that could shake the heavens. The black spear carved a full-moon arc of violet lightning through the air. Wherever its tip passed, the air was torn open and spiritual energy shredded. In places invisible to the naked eye, three faint explosions rang out. Broken stones sprayed everywhere, and dust surged into the air.
—Since he suspected it, then he would use greater power to cut off the problem at its root!
Shen Yuxi's hands did not stop. For a moment, no