"Kill!—""Let's fight him with all we've got!"
"At worst, it's just death!"
"...Ah!!"
"Run! Run! Heartbroken Guardian, run!"
The sounds of fierce combat, from the initial vigor to the swiftly diminishing voices of terror.
Brilliant golden saber light, sweeping through the tavern like a hurricane.
The last few elites of Tyrant Hall had barely fled to Heartbroken Little Knife when they were all felled by several streaks of light from a golden knife, their blood bars emptied in an instant, dissipating as white flashes.
Heartbroken Little Knife had not made a move from beginning to end.
His eyes were tightly fixed on the Golden Nine-Ring Blade in Jiang Dali's hands, his mind filled with the image of the domineering and powerful sword light, his forehead dripping with sweat.
He had been observing Jiang Dali's saber skill all along and had already spotted some flaws in his opponent's technique.
Even now, with Jiang Dali standing before him, his entire body was full of openings.