Chu Shihan's breathing began to falter.
Battle intent surged through his chest with nowhere to vent. The muscles in his arms bulged like iron, veins standing out—but his sword was locked down, his fists and feet entangled, leaving all his brute strength with nowhere to go.
He felt like a fierce beast trapped in a spiderweb. The more he struggled, the tighter those invisible threads cinched, biting deep into flesh and grinding into bone.
Chu Shihan was not one to passively take a beating. He made a snap decision and abandoned his sword. The longsword left his hand but did not fall; with a hook of his foot, the hilt tapped lightly against the top of his instep, and the blade spun into the air.
At the same time, he unleashed Sword Aura. Golden light burst from within him and instantly enveloped his entire body. This aura was incomparably sharp, enough to grind anything that approached into fragments.
The cutting force struck Jing Cangyi directly, yet Jing Cangyi seemed scarcely aware of it. His body was unbelievably supple, yet possessed the resilience of steel. The aura carved bloody marks across him, blood seeping from the wounds and staining his short garment red.
Under the enormous pressure of the Sword Aura, he bent himself into a nearly folded posture—his waist folding to its utmost limit, his whole body like a sheet of paper folded in half, barely evading Chu Shihan's elbow strike.
The next second, he sprang back like a coiled spring. His legs wound even tighter, nearly locking down Chu Shihan's lower body, his entire figure like a coiling snake that only tightened its hold.
His shoulder rotated at an angle that defied all reason—an angle that would dislocate an ordinary person's joint on the spot, yet he moved through