Sword rain whirled across the sky. Qiu Fengqi's blue robe was in tatters, and small cuts covered his body.
He swung his iron sword furiously, fierce flames blazing along its length. Raindrops struck the crimson blade with incessant hisses, turning into white smoke.
Hong Shan hid at the edge of the arena, countless streams of Heaven and Earth Primordial Energy seeping gently and soundlessly from his body.
Without stirring so much as a whisper of wind, layers of crystalline radiance gathered around him, forming what seemed like countless mirrors that refracted the surrounding light.
At that moment, he seemed transparent.
Even the spectators below could scarcely spot him unless they looked closely.
Hong Shan narrowed his eyes, a smug, cold smile curling his lips. He was waiting-waiting for the right moment to strike a killing blow.
He watched Qiu Fengqi like a hunter watching prey struggle desperately in a trap, composed and calm.
A clump of flame splashed toward him, scattering sparks as it landed. Hong Shan frowned and silently shifted a little to one side.
A scorching gust swept toward him, and the hand hanging at his waist suddenly tightened around his sword hilt.
Hong Shan could draw his sword very quickly. He had once practiced drawing it ten thousand times every day. His sword had long since become one with his body; at a mere thought, it could leave its sheath at any moment, poised perfectly to meet any threat.
Today, however, his sword was only halfway out when the crimson iron sword streaked toward his wrist in a flash of red, letting out a terrifying shriek. Before it even reached him, its heat, fierce enough to melt anything, scorched his skin painfully.
Qiu Fengqi, who had still been in the center of the arena, looked like a