"Yan Qingsui would cry if he heard you say that."
Yan Qingsui didn't cry. He turned his head and sneezed, nearly losing his nose to his opponent's blade. Grumbling about whoever was cursing him behind his back, he swung his sword with all his might and sent his opponent flying.
The Profound Abyss Sword had long since lost its slender shape. Its imposing blade was nearly as wide as Yan Qingsui's shoulders. Who knew what Yan Qingsui found attractive? After refining it time and again, he had turned the sword into this monstrosity. The Profound Abyss Sword let him do as he pleased and even seemed rather satisfied with its appearance.
Qiao Ranran had once remarked that the Profound Abyss Sword could serve as a shield under ordinary circumstances. When he used Sword Flight, he wouldn't even need to change the blade's size.
Thinking of Qiao Ranran, Yan Qingsui clicked his tongue. He wondered how they were doing. He wasn't worried about Qiao Ranran; Pei Ling would never let her end up alone here. Tao Doudou was another matter. Who knew what that little one might encounter, stranded here by herself?
"Are you ever going to stop?" His opponents kept hounding him. They clearly couldn't beat him, yet they clung like maggots to bone, haunting his every step as though they wouldn't rest until they cut him down.
Yan Qingsui was far stronger than they were, but they were slippery. Even with his fighting ability, he couldn't find an opening to take them down. Their coordination was so tight that he couldn't find a way through, which only made him more irritated.
He knew what they were waiting for: the moment he grew tired and let his guard slip. He was at the Nascent Soul Stage, his father was Sword