The moonlight was clear, the wind and snow howled.
The two were no more than thirty feet apart, their towering pressures clashing in close quarters, creating a vacuum zone where the wind and snow could not penetrate.
Yang Ge's pressure was fierce and wild, like a mountain flood breaking the bank and a tiger descending the mountain, carrying a violence that seemed to say all would burn with him, a scent of madness.
The pressure from the man in the dragon robe was overbearing and grand, like thousands of horses galloping and great mountains towering, yet subtly mingled with an indescribable evil Qi and the aura of death.
The clashing pressures of the two persisted for a long while, causing series of muffled Qi explosions in the void, yet neither showed signs of faltering...
Soon, Yang Ge's patience ran out, and with an expressionless face, he stepped forward and dashed forward with his saber.
The next second, the bright Qi of his saber tore through the night sky!