The night, shrouded in mountain fog.
The mountain, veiled completely by the dark curtain of night.
Qin Yuesheng stood on a mountaintop, holding the sword in one hand, his eyes fixed intently on the elder ten meters away.
The other held only a wooden sword, a seemingly ordinary person.
"I seek to learn something," Qin Yuesheng's words had just fallen, and with that, he moved.
Shua!
At his level of strength, every move was as swift as a gust of wind, unmeasurable.
In just an instant, Qin Yuesheng was already in front of the elder with the blade.
The blade wind was sharp, cutting through the air.
At that very moment, the elder moved.
His eyes slightly opened, suddenly bursting out with a sharp brilliance.
At the same time, his right hand moved.
The simple and unadorned wooden sword directly faced Qin Yuesheng's Taixie Tiger Demon Blade.
Hiss!
