Lan Wuxin would only have the luxury to think about the entire incident much later. "What’s going on? Why did they just fight? Have they gotten into a disagreement? Does it have to become like this? Why have they drawn their blades? What – what’s going on?"
"They can’t be fighting! At least, not here!"
With a loud screech, like two swords that had collided, a low grunt came from someone’s chest. A spray of blood then sliced through the sword light and spurted towards the sky.
A silhouette retreated with a stagger and twirl; each turn he made added a circle of blood around him.
To everyone’s horror, the person’s body was littered with over a hundred wounds. Each wound was still spraying blood in copious amounts.