On the platform, the fierce battle raged.
Alone with her blade, Gu Feiyan fought three opponents, saber light sweeping back and forth. Her weapon looked immensely heavy, yet she wielded it as deftly as an embroidery needle. The four fought as they moved, ranging across the platform in an inextricable battle, heedless of life and death. Even as fire blazed toward the heavens and everything around them turned to ash, they remained unmoved.
Yet after barely twenty or thirty exchanges, all three men retreated again.
Situ Wudi's twin pistols had been broken, and blood seeped from the webs of his hands; Yang Cuo's great halberd was covered in blade notches. Only Li Da had lasted longer with his weapon, but a crushing slash drove him back, both hands gripping his spear as its tip scraped the ground in a shower of sparks.
The three exchanged glances, their expressions grave and tinged with surprise.
It was not that their fighting methods were inferior. Rather, she seemed able to see through every variation in their moves, and whenever their weapons met, she invariably struck where their force was weakest. Thus, they lost the initiative from the moment they engaged and repeatedly suffered heavy losses.
Mind-Reading.
Divine Eye.
Having never fought this woman before, they had not appreciated what was so wondrous about these two abilities. Now that they experienced them firsthand, the frustration was unbearable, like a breath they could neither exhale nor swallow.
No wonder she dared to tangle with Mr. Corpse. She truly had the means to back it up.
Just then, a noise suddenly came from beneath their feet, like wood and stone bursting apart.
Within moments, the once-sturdy platform began to sway, on the verge of collapse.
"Hmph!"
Gu Feiyan's expression was aloof, her dark hair streaming upright