The cold python's chill pressed close again.
Though Qinghuang had known he would lose, he had never expected to lose so cleanly. Only two exchanges had passed.
The battle was hurtling toward its end.
Fortunately, Purple Bamboo had considered countless possibilities for this stretch of "improvised combat" on his behalf, including its conclusion.
His third chance to strike.
Qinghuang ignored the shudder rising through his body. His sword flashed up like a dragon, with none of its eerie, devious twists-only a straight line of speed!
It thrust straight toward Meng Chuyuan's lower abdomen-"By then, you definitely won't be able to dodge or block anymore. All you can do is try to trade one more move."
"Which move?"
"For your final chance to strike, use the strongest one you can still manage."
[Heartbreaker]
As Qinghuang thrust out his sword, the cold python had already struck home. A sword pierced the center of his chest, its savage True Qi tearing through his body like a gale through rotten wood. This move was no more lethal than [Five-Leaf Abdomen Piercing], but while Meng Chuyuan was still fighting bathed in blood, Qinghuang had already crumpled under it, grievously wounded.
Only the short sword in his hand still held enough strength.
This time, Qinghuang settled for directing the most resolutely lethal move of the Bamboo-Cutting Sword toward his enemy's abdomen.
He sought only to wound his enemy once more!
Yet this thrust ultimately failed.
Qinghuang's sword could not advance another inch. No sensation of slicing flesh traveled back along the blade; instead, it sank into a peculiar resistance.
The move had not been dodged, nor had it collided with another blade. Something had simply frozen it there.
Qinghuang looked up. Before Meng Chuyuan, the air seemed to have become invisible iron, casting the short sword