Clang, clang...
Sang Biao's face was expressionless as he pressed forward, swinging his blade with both hands. Steel struck steel, sparks flew, and every collision sent a jolt through Ye Chen.
Sang Biao used his superior strength to his advantage. His massive blade whistled through the air, aimed straight at Ye Chen's sword. The man was calculating. After several exchanges, Ye Chen's grip had gone numb and his whole body shook. It felt as though his organs had been knocked out of place, churning like Sun Wukong wreaking Havoc in Heaven inside Princess Iron Fan's stomach.
As the saying went, an extra inch of reach meant an extra measure of strength; a shorter weapon meant greater danger.
Sang Biao's blade was broad and thick, fierce and domineering. It flashed cold as he swung it, sending a chill through the air. With his prodigious strength behind it, man and blade worked as one. His storm of attacks drove Ye Chen back, leaving him in danger at every turn.
Ye Chen soon reached the base of the Mast. The moment his back touched it, Sang Biao charged in and slashed at his neck.
Ye Chen ducked and flicked his fingers twice, sending out two streaks of white light. "One Yang Finger!"
"Iron Body."
The two strikes hit Sang Biao with crisp metallic rings, as though they had struck solid iron. His blade missed, but he had swung too hard to stop. With a crack, it cut the Mast, more than ten meters tall, clean in half.
"Hey, hey, hey... That's a bit violent! Aren't you afraid you'll wreck the ship and drown?"
The Mast crashed into the sea. Ye Chen let out an exaggerated cry, then offered the warning with a smile.
"Hmph. That's none of your concern. Worry about your own