It was an almost uncanny saber stroke. It seemed to reach the same destination as [Leaf-Eating] by a different path, but [Leaf-Eating]'s "path" was visible: it whittled away layer by layer through exquisitely refined technique. This stroke, however, left no trace to follow-how could you silently annihilate such power? Where was the process?
The battlefield seemed to fall silent for an instant. Only in the next moment was that illusion corrected-the force had not inexplicably vanished. Following the saber's trajectory, it erupted anew on Yang Yan's right, not diminished in the slightest.
To those watching from afar, this move could easily be classified under the profound martial principle of Star-Shifting.
But with broader insight, a closer vantage, and more careful observation, one would notice something amiss-force-redirecting techniques such as moving a thousand pounds with four ounces did not make power disappear.
This stroke had absolutely not guided the force elsewhere. For a brief span, it had truly "swallowed" that power whole, then seemingly been forced to spit it out because it could not digest it.
Regardless, apart from a thread of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, Yang Yan had dealt with that lethal staff thrust almost perfectly.
At that moment, the Moon-Catching Tower on his right looked exactly as a wall would after being struck by a siege crossbow. A gaping hole large enough to admit a tiger or an ox lay open. Yang Yan could have slipped inside by turning sideways, and there were more obstacles within for him to maneuver around. Instead, he planted a foot against the tower wall and kicked himself away.
He had to keep this battle exposed to everyone's view.
That saber stroke made even the old man's pupils contract and his face tighten with startled uncertainty, but it provoked neither