In the clearing, the aftershocks from the first clash had yet to settle when Yun Muyao and Meng Xian moved again.
Yun Muyao's Body Technique was as elusive as an ice spirit. She unleashed her Swordsmanship, and streams of frigid Sword Qi crisscrossed the air. They cascaded like waterfalls or bloomed like ice lotuses, enveloping all of Meng Xian's vital points.
Each strike carried an extreme chill. Wherever the wind from her blade passed, the ground frosted over, and the very air seemed to freeze solid.
Though startled, Meng Xian remained composed. The Cultivation Techniques of the Netherworld Pavilion were strange and unpredictable.
At times, he formed his palms into claws, tearing black fissures in the air as he tried to catch the nimble, unpredictable gleam of her sword.
At other times, his Body Technique was like a phantom's, leaving a trail of afterimages as he dodged the sharpest edge of her assault.
