Please vote with recommendation tickets and monthly tickets.
Zhuo Qianren's wings quivered like streaks of silver light as he pursued Yan Wufeng relentlessly. Each beat raised a piercing shriek, as though it would tear through the silence of heaven and earth.
Yan Wufeng was swift enough himself. The wings behind him surged like billowing ink-black clouds, stirring howling winds.
Occasionally, his toes touched the treetops, leaving a string of barely visible afterimages, as though he were strolling leisurely through the woods.
Yet the fierce wind behind him followed like his shadow, never straying more than three inches from his back.
Before the Silver Emperor Sky Falcon, a Martial Soul whose sheer speed ranked among the finest under heaven, his own speed ultimately paled in comparison.
Knowing his strength fell far short, Zhuo Qianren avoided a direct confrontation and merely harried him, striking from behind one moment and ambushing him from the side the next. Sometimes he even cast his shadow down from above, trying to disrupt Yan Wufeng's concentration and slow him down.
Yan Wufeng remained composed. He glanced at Zhuo Qianren coldly and said in an indifferent voice, "Zhuo Qianren, there has never been any grievance between us. Acting like this today, aren't you afraid that we of the Crimson Saint will settle accounts with you and Chang'an Academy later?"
Zhuo Qianren remained unmoved. He sneered, "You certainly have composure, Mr. Yan, staying calm in the face of danger! But when entrusted with a task, one must see it through. Don't waste your breath!"
While Yan Wufeng fled and Zhuo Qianren pursued, a melodious sword cry suddenly rang out, carrying an air of murderous severity.
There was something spellbinding about that sword cry. Even Yan Wufeng could not help narrowing his eyes.
Zhuo Qianren's allies had arrived.
Yan