A cold gleam spread across the jet-black blade, and the three small silver characters spelling "River-Crossing Sword" on its hilt began to flicker.
Wang Yu's brow twitched. He tightened one hand around the hilt while his other hand suddenly grew thicker, then flicked the blade hard three times.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
With Wang Yu's current immense strength, each flick was like a heavy hammer strike.
The River-Crossing Sword immediately began to hum, its blade trembling on its own.
Seeing this, Wang Yu drew a deep breath. His upper body abruptly swelled, while wisps of Golden-Yellow Mist emerged from both arms, vaguely taking the shape of finely crafted Arm Armor.
Wang Yu opened his mouth again, expelling a billowing wave of white air. Both arms abruptly doubled in thickness. Gripping the blade with both hands, he bent it with all his strength, as though intent on snapping the sword clean in half.
Hum!
The jet-black iron sword was forcibly bent almost ninety degrees by his immense strength, yet it proved extraordinarily resilient and did not snap in two. Instead, its humming grew louder and its trembling more violent.
Wang Yu felt a faint numbness in all ten fingers, as though he were holding not an inanimate object, but a large fish struggling desperately.
This River-Crossing Sword was definitely no ordinary Sword Weapon. Even a magical artifact refined from iron essence could never be this resilient!
Could it really be one of the flying swords wielded by Sword Cultivators in the rumors?
But why did no inscription patterns appear on the sword, no matter how he activated it? Did a Sword Cultivator's Life-Bound Flying Sword have no spirit inscriptions?
The astonishing speed with which the Black Soul Sect Daoist had wielded this sword that day flashed through Wang Yu's mind, followed by