Driving his qi-blood onward, Jia Yu increased his speed another three tenths. Like an arrow loosed from a bow, he rushed up close and swept his longsword sideways, cutting straight at Deng Qing's waist.
Deng Qing could only halt the sword momentum aimed at the Wasteland Beast's remains and bring his sword back to block.
In that instant, Jia Yu's chest and abdomen surged, and even the faint internal breath within his Origin Aperture rushed forth, pouring into his sword.
The longsword in his hand trembled. Its edge swept past and struck the Blacksteel Soft Sword squarely.
A sharp clang rang out, and the Blacksteel Soft Sword snapped. Deng Qing's heart ached, but he shifted his stance and advanced instead of retreating, closing on Jia Yu.
Jia Yu sneered inwardly. Useless. It's over.
He leveled his longsword and slashed toward Deng Qing's neck, his sword momentum like thunder.
Exhilaration filled Jia Yu's heart as he waited to watch Deng Qing's head part from his body.
As for the broken sword Deng Qing thrust at him in a desperate bid, Jia Yu could not even be bothered to dodge. However fast Deng Qing was, his attack had come later. It could never outpace Jia Yu's sword.
He even wanted to know how much strength would remain in Deng Qing's thrust once he had lopped off his head.
With a dull thud, the longsword struck Deng Qing's neck. A streak of red light flashed across it, like surging qi-blood.
Feeling his sword land solidly, Jia Yu's delight surged like a tide. Soon, though, he sensed something wrong. Why did the impact feel different?
Stranger still, the spray of blood and tumbling head he had expected never appeared.
Instead, Deng Qing's body swayed under the blow, and his hand rose, thrusting swiftly forward.