He Ping'an finally opened his eyes. The light above the firmament was reflected in their clear depths, calm as still water.
"I've nurtured this sword for twenty-eight years, all for today."
"Let them curse until they've spent their anger."
"Then we draw our swords."
Twenty-eight years of nurturing a sword!
Those were the last words his master Nameless had given He Ping'an before he entered the First Heaven.
A true sword cultivator was not defined by the instant his sword was drawn.
He was defined by the long silence before it.
Silence was the sharpest scabbard!
He Ping'an raised his head. His gaze pierced the golden flood that blotted out the sky and settled on the golden figure.
His eyes remained calm as still water, but beneath that calm, something suppressed for twenty-eight years was slowly awakening.
Battle spirit.
Sword Intent!
The edge that a trillion disciples of the Human Realm had kept hidden for twenty-eight years!
Jintong, of course, could not hear He Ping'an.
Seeing that the Human Realm disciples still showed no reaction, his contempt deepened.
"You don't even have the courage to fight?"
Jintong sneered, and golden light blazed from the heavenly eye in his brow.
"In that case, I've no interest in wasting time on a pack of turtles hiding in their shells."
He slowly raised his right hand.
It hung in midair, five fingers spread, dazzling golden immortal light surging in his palm.
Three hundred trillion Heavenly Soldiers and Heavenly Generals held their breath at once. Every gaze converged on that raised hand.
On the Primordial Battlefield, every expert watching grew tense.
"It's coming!"
The Fourth Divine General sprang from his throne, a savage grin on his face.
"Ants of the Human Realm, let's see how long you can last!"
The First-Heaven Battlefield.
The Heavenly