Zou Yong's hand gripped the bowstring tightly. The string was red, the arrow's fletching white, yet the skin on the back of his hand had turned as pale as snow. As he poured strength into it, his skin became almost translucent, the veins faintly visible beneath.
The distance between them had closed to less than fifty feet, and the red light at the arrowhead flared.
Hu Xiaotian had already sensed that this arrow from Zou Yong would be extraordinary. He dared not be careless in the slightest. Inner breath surged from his Dantian Sea of Qi, coursing through his meridians into both arms. The radiance of Wind-Slayer instantly swelled, its blade turning as clear as crystal. Light and shadow skimmed across its fish-scale patterns, like a hidden dragon struggling to break free of the blade's restraints and burst from its cocoon. Hu Xiaotian gripped the hilt tightly, trying to control the tremendous blade energy straining to erupt. Even he could not predict how much devastation it would unleash this time.
The bowstring in Zou Yong's hand drew back another half inch. The bow had reached its limit, his strength its utmost, and the most formidable arrow of his life stood poised to fly. Yet he did not have the slightest confidence.
At that critical instant, a small, thin old man appeared before Zou Yong like a ghost.
Zou Yong had been wholly focused on preparing for a fight to the death with Hu Dafu and had not noticed the old man's arrival. Hu Xiaotian, too, had concentrated all his attention on Zou Yong and failed to spot him in time. By the time he saw the old man suddenly appear, it was already too late to pull back his blade. A twenty-foot streak of blade radiance shot free of the