Zhang Jingbi gritted his teeth and ducked low.
In a sense, he should have won. But Yan Caiyue had never stopped his sword.
This was not dogged persistence after a failed strike. Rather, he had not yet exhausted that single breath.
A second long rainbow rose with a ringing cry-a second Piercing the Sun, without the slightest pause for breath.
Two such powerful strikes in such close succession were certainly approaching his limit. Guan Qianyan cried out in alarm. This had actually exceeded many people's expectations-even against Kong Wen just now, Yan Caiyue had not adopted such a "bluntly straightforward" approach.
This attack, which wrung out his limits, indeed lacked the abundant strength of the first strike. But Zhang Jingbi, who likewise had no time to muster his qi, clearly lacked the strength to receive another sword strike of any kind.
Yet the sword light that followed made everyone hold their breath.
Since stepping onto the platform, Zhang Jingbi had defended with his sword three times and had his sword momentum shattered three times.
Facing the fourth assault, he changed his sword's defensive stance for the first time.
An extraordinary turn of the blade.
His True Qi and sword momentum gathered from disarray, climbing out of their slump. Some of the elders on the stand focused their gazes in surprise.
With a lone staff and tattered shoes, one climbed the mountain in search of the phoenix. Thorns pierced the skin, snakes and owls attacked. Only after enduring every hardship and exhausting all strength to reach the summit might one hear a phoenix cry high in the heavens, instantly clearing the spirit and replenishing strength, as though the sinews and bones had been washed clean.
Thus, precisely when one's True Qi had scattered and one could barely hold a sword was