The Hidden Disciples

Of course, by now, everyone had readjusted their stances, their bodies taut with anticipation as they prepared for the imminent attack from the whistling sword qi.

Each of them, experienced in combat, was fully aware that this could very well be the moment of explosion.

Yet, Xiao Ming had remained calm, his responses sharp and swift, his senses honed to a razor's edge.

PIAK!

The clusters of sword qi crackled ominously once again, shooting toward everyone in all directions.

Xiao Ming, without hesitation, ducked his head slightly, narrowly avoiding the deadly blades that would have pierced through his skull.

His aura surged, sharp and unyielding, as a protective layer of sword intent gathered around him, an ethereal shield from the oncoming onslaught.

Beside him, Ming Shan, Xi Muyao, and Zhao Yin—each true sword cultivators in their own right—followed suit, instinctively manifesting their weapon intents.