The old man had poured so much true qi into that lethal staff strike that, to defend himself, he had no choice but to withdraw that vast quantity of true qi.
Once the pressure of that strike vanished, Pei Ye could seek an opening to slit his throat.
Yet the old man's defense truly was nothing more than plain, unadorned "defense," virtually flawless at its very foundation. This was the difficulty the "third" faced-even if the old man stood motionless and let him slash away, the boy could hardly claim he could break through that armor.
The opening for this sword strike had passed. Pei Ye relaxed his furrowed brow, decisively withdrew his sword, and abandoned this attack, drifting backward instead.
For Yang Hu, however, all sense of time had vanished.
That instant seemed eternal. He even wondered whether he had simply died like this, for no apparent reason.
Only when he opened his eyes did he realize that merely an instant had passed.
As the boy withdrew his sword, that feeling of being buried deep also dissipated. Only then did the old man realize-this had actually been the effect of that sword strike!
This was actually an Intent Sword technique!!
For an instant, he even felt a little uneasy—which places had passed down Intent Sword techniques? What stood behind a boy who could receive such a legacy?
Still, the surveillance and investigation of the past dozen days steadied him somewhat.
Besides, the arrow had already left the bow; there was no turning back now.
Meanwhile, sensation returned to his body-he was uninjured everywhere, and even his [Iron Garment] bore no trace of an attempted breach. The old man looked up and saw the boy setting his feet down three zhang away.
He, too, was retreating.
Understanding immediately dawned on