It was a swift, majestic sword that pressed forward without hesitation. All it needed was the slightest opening to deal the enemy a fatal blow.
Qinghuang laid that opening before Lu Yunsheng so plainly that a roaring wind drove straight into Meng Chuyuan's chest, unimpeded.
At the very instant his left chest was pierced through, Meng Chuyuan's question was answered.
-Lu Yunsheng of Heavenly Mountain's Weifeng Pond handled matters calmly and steadily. Both brave and resourceful, he had long been capable of standing on his own.
But his cultivation really was only at the seventh growth.
Only after grasping this and looking back over the battle did Meng Chuyuan realize how perilously close a thing the sword strike that killed him had been.
With strength like this, they had actually swallowed down everything Seven Flood Dragon Cave had committed tonight.
A single thought could have reversed victory and defeat; if they had simply pressed forward together, victory would have been his.
Yet within the rhythm his opponents controlled, he had first overestimated them and shackled himself with caution, then misjudged and underestimated them upon seeing Qinghuang, dropping his guard.
One step driving the next, his opponents had finally slain the mighty flood dragon with three weak swords.
Strength and true qi drained rapidly away. Unable to hold them down any longer, he spewed fragments of his organs from his mouth in a wet rush.
Because they were fighting the strong with the weak, because this opening was so precious, Lu Yunsheng's strike was utterly resolute. To keep its power from weakening in the slightest, his blade did not pause at all.
It pierced violently through Meng Chuyuan's chest, then emerged from Qinghuang's back.
There was no question: Meng Chuyuan would not survive.
Upstairs, the whistle in Li Piaoqing's hand had