The Young Man wore a white robe and held a three-foot-long white-edged sword. His long hair was parted down the middle and drifted loosely at either side.
His skin was fair, his eyes bright and spirited. As the gentle breeze slowly rose, his white robe fluttered in the wind.
Anyone who saw him would sigh, "What a graceful young man."
As the Young Man walked over step by step, boundless sword intent surged around him.
Xu Zimo sat backward atop the Dark Sky Tiger, watching the scene with interest.
Sensing the Young Man's Sword Qi growing increasingly powerful, General Zhao frowned slightly.
"This is a matter of state for our Tianheng Empire. It has nothing to do with you, does it?" he said.
"I've always loved standing up for injustice," the white-robed Young Man snorted coldly.
"Running into me can only be counted as your bad luck."
General Zhao snorted. Several Blood-robed men beside him immediately charged at the Young Man.
Yet the Young Man merely smiled calmly and slowly swung the longsword in his hand.
Everyone heard only a resounding sword cry. Then blood sprayed into the air as several Black-robed figures were torn into pieces.
General Zhao's expression changed drastically as he muttered, "What a fast sword."
He had not even seen the other party's Sword Qi being unleashed. If the target of that strike had been himself—
he was terrified that he might not have been able to evade it.
"Are you determined to become an enemy of the Tianheng Empire?" General Zhao asked as he involuntarily retreated several steps.
"So what if I am? I, Gentleman Sword, have traveled throughout the entire Northern Continent. I have never bowed my waist to any force!"
The white-robed Young Man shook his head and chuckled.
"You are Gentleman Sword