Boom!
A figure flew backward along the mountain path.
Lian Youming slammed into the rocks, blood streaming from his chest, several long, narrow sword wounds now marking his flesh. Yet he showed no pain, only a grave expression. He hurriedly dodged aside, and barely had he moved when a hundred-pound boulder came hurtling over and embedded itself in the mountainside.
Old Daoist Wei advanced with flying strides, ruthless killing intent on his face. Gripping his sword in both hands, he actually worked staff techniques into his eight-foot Kunlun Sword as he attacked and defended. The long blade lifted, flicked, and wheeled, shrieking like a raging dragon. With a few flicks and a sweep, several hundred-pound boulders beside the path flew toward Lian Youming as though weightless.
The longer Lian Youming watched, the more alarmed he became. This man's vital essence, accumulated over many years, had finally been unleashed, filling his body with the vigor of a young man. His already astonishingly fierce attacks immediately grew still more powerful, while his killing aura climbed steadily, blazing like fire. The sharpness of his sword attacks was worlds apart from before. He was fucking formidable.
Before Lian Youming could steady himself, that blue-green gleam came after him again like maggots clinging to bone. With two whistling flicks, it sent him flipping and leaping along the mountain path, darting left and right to evade the sword moves. At the same time, he wielded his sword in his right hand, making the light weapon strike as though it weighed a thousand tons, seeking to suppress his opponent's offensive. But Old Daoist Wei gave a chuckle, swayed as though drunk, and twisted on stumbling feet. Evading solid attacks with empty movements, seemingly drunk yet not, he bent and straightened, his sword extending and withdrawing like arrows