For some reason, Yan Peng kept feeling that the miasma he released through his pores was silently dissolving into the void, leaving him unable to tell whether it had any effect.
During that brief, agonizing pause, he suddenly heard the young man opposite him cough twice.
An opening! Yan Peng had no time to think. While the radiant, valiant girl was still some distance from Escort Captain Yu, he turned, used his lightness skill, slipped between the two escorts who had just recovered from the miasma, and sprinted toward the nearby woods.
Sparse, cold rain struck his face, clearing his head. He wished he could grow another pair of legs.
The woods were in sight, but before delight could rise in Yan Peng's heart, the scene before him swayed gently, as though turning into an illusion.
Once again, he saw the radiant girl and the young man wearing the Carefree Headwrap.
One stood before him and the other behind, trapping him between them.
Holding his Hundred-Forged Steel Saber, Yan Peng then saw the young man smile faintly and say:
"There are too many people in there. This spot will do nicely."
Nicely for what? Before Yan Peng could think any further, a crystalline longsword with a streak of crimson hidden within it filled his vision.
With his life at stake, he brought every trick he knew to bear. Yet his opponent's swordsmanship was unfathomable as gods and ghosts. Every stroke put him in an excruciating position, forcing him to muster all his strength to block it.
After barely a dozen exchanges, Yan Peng was drenched in sweat, his body drained and his true qi sluggish, as though he had fought someone for three hundred rounds.
Clang!
His saber was deftly swept aside, and the translucent sword tip came to rest