She had escaped.
Right under the noses of Ning Hongye and Yue Xiaofei, two of their strongest fighters, the woman in the weeping mask had rescued Yatelan.
The fierce winds gradually died down.
The battle had scattered the dark clouds. A shaft of golden sunlight pierced through them and fell across the shattered reef.
An eerie stillness settled over the sea.
Only the distant rumble of the East Sea Fleet's engines could be heard.
Ning Hongye stood with her blade lowered. Beneath her red veil, she turned slightly toward where the spatial rift had vanished and parted her lips.
"She's strong."
The woman had taken Yue Xiaofei's slash head-on, then used the force of Ning Hongye's blade to withdraw unscathed.
Someone with that kind of power was no nameless figure in the Ancient Gods Church.
But Yue Xiaofei seemed not to hear Ning Hongye.
He stood rigid at the edge of the reef, head lowered, staring at the sleeve of his Battle Robe.
A perfectly straight cut marked the black military sleeve. Its edge still bore a trace of charring from the golden lightning-fire.
The thrust had seemed aimed at his wrist, but at the instant their weapons met, the sword tip had shifted outward by half an inch.
Without that nearly imperceptible change, it would have cut through flesh, not just cloth.
What shook Yue Xiaofei even more was the woman's sword stance.
Shoulder lowered, wrist pressed down, slender sword thrust straight ahead, with three turns along the way.
The chain of blade-breaking strikes—the Yue Assassination Art!
It was the Yue Family's secret technique!
The woman's opening move had been exactly like one he remembered seeing!
"Xiaofei! Xiaofei, are you okay?!"
Han Duoduo's anxious voice rang through the tactical earpiece in his ear.
In the base's command center, alarms