Darkness gives way to light.
The sky brightens once more.
The black mist and dark clouds scatter, depriving Ling Wudeng of energy.
He hadn't expected Lin Fan to find him in the darkness, striking with a sword and nearly taking his life.
Fortunately, he reacted quickly enough to avoid a lethal blow.
Nonetheless.
He had consud most of his energy, now panting heavily and lacking strength in his limbs.
But at least he preserved his life.
Yet for Ling Wudeng.
rely surviving is far from enough; it's practically a disgraceful act!
A Ninth Rank Saint Emperor put him in such a sorry state.
It's an utter humiliation.
An utter humiliation!
"Impossible! How could you possibly defeat ! I am a Middle Heavenly Venerate, how can a re Ninth Rank Saint Emperor defeat , absolutely impossible!"
At this mont Ling Wudeng, kneeling on one knee, roars with thunderous fury.
His eyes are blood-red and raging, his expression grotesque and terrifying. He truly cannot believe that he has been knocked to the ground by Lin Fan.
re monts ago, the opponent was still kneeling before him, awaiting his termination.
But now, the situation has reversed!
Lin Fan, however, does not rush to strike down Ling Wudeng because he knows the current Ling Wudeng poses no threat to him.
No threat at all.
In his eyes, Ling Wudeng is already a dead man.
He intends to utterly humiliate Ling Wudeng, letting him comprehend the enormity of his mistake.
Lin Fan expressionlessly waves the Xuanyuan Sword in his hand.
"If you feel dissatisfied, you might as well pick up the Black Sword, let's have another duel. Kneeling on the ground and screaming like a ghost, what's that supposed to an?"
His tone is highly mocking and contemptuous.
Ling Wudeng shudders violently, catching a glimpse of the Black Sword fallen beside him.
His heart itches, unwilling to admit defeat, still wishing to try.
How could he be knocked down by Lin Fan, absolutely impossible.
It must have been negligence just now.
Lin Fan must have pulled off a stroke of luck!
Ling Wudeng swallows hard, heart skipping a beat, glancing at Lin Fan, fearing he might sneak attack while he retrieves the sword.
Yet Lin Fan sees through his thoughts imdiately, sneering coldly.
"Hmph! What did you think of , that I would sneak attack you? Such vile deeds are beneath . You may pick up the sword; I absolutely won't take action."
Ling Wudeng's face turns crimson, as if scalded by fire.
Such petty suspicion is indeed disgraceful, unbecoming of the title as the foremost attendant of the Suru Continent.
If Lin Fan were in his shoes, would he sneak attack?
Ling Wudeng ponders for a mont, and the answer is certainly yes!
Honor ans nothing before him.
Only victory is the ultimate goal.
Even though Lin Fan guarantees no sneak attack, he remains distrustful.
Suddenly.
He rolls back quickly, snaring the Black Sword.
Yet Lin Fan truly remains motionless, gazing coldly at him, with a chilling smile.
Ling Wudeng did not anticipate that Lin Fan would actually stick to his word, staying absolutely still, with not a hint of sneak attack.
Using a villainous heart to asure a gentleman's integrity.
His deanor grows increasingly embarrassed and awkward, but luckily no one is around, within a hundred-mile radius, it's just the two of them.
"You are really afraid of dying; I said I wouldn't sneak attack and an what I say. It appears you often don't an what you say, hence your wariness."
"Stop…stop spewing nonsense!"
Ling Wudeng shouts angrily and awkwardly.
"If you dare, co again!"
He suddenly grips the Black Sword, surging forward with a black shadow, charging towards Lin Fan.
Dark light piercing, Sword Qi nacing.
Despite being injured, Ling Wudeng is still a Middle Heavenly Venerate; his speed remains unmatched, like a black streak of lightning.
The Black Sword in his hand starts to gather dark power again.
The vast earth is emitting black smoke, as if half of Hell's breath was leaking out.
"Prepare to die!"
The Black Sword is roaring, breaking through the void, murderous intent soaring.
Lin Fan rely smirks with contempt, mockery, disdain, and indifference.
Seeing this stirs unease within Ling Wudeng.
In this kid's eyes, he is so insignificant?!
The Black Sword ans nothing to this kid?!
He actually...
He actually remains absolutely still, not even a flinch!
Terror.
Fright.
Disorientation.
Ling Wudeng montarily finds himself lost, a mist covering his mind, unsure of what to do.
However, the Black Sword has already been thrust; there's no turning back.
He can only grit his teeth, harden his resolve, and charge forward.
"Ah——"
A deep sigh, piercing the skies, directly fills Ling Wudeng's ear, reaching his very soul.
What?!
He widens his eyes in shock, unable to respond in ti.
In just a fraction of a breath.
The Xuanyuan Sword in Lin Fan's hand vanished abruptly, disappearing ethereally.
Upon reappearing, it stood before Lin Fan.
Clang!
The two swords clash, sparks flying.
A crisp sound rises to the heavens.
Ling Wudeng grips his sword with both hands, confronting Lin Fan, sweat pouring from his forehead like beans, streaming down his cheeks.
His expression grotesque, features twisted, the corners of his mouth trembling incessantly.
Yet Lin Fan remains calm and collected, one hand in his pocket, the other casually holding the Xuanyuan Sword.
Again!
Ling Wudeng feels stunned, the Xuanyuan Sword still by Lin Fan's side, seemingly impossible to block his killing blow, how could it instantly fend off his attack.
He thinks he's seen this trick sowhere before.
He frowns deeply, thoughts churning, feeling an unusual familiarity.
Just as he is pondering.
Lin Fan sneers coldly: "Are you just weak from hunger? This little strength is insufficient."
"You..." Ling Wudeng bares his teeth, but has no recourse.
He's exerted all his might, yet Lin Fan remains composed and unperturbed, causing him nearly no trouble at all.
In the re span of monts, how could there be such a dramatic shift.
Terrifying!
Unnervingly terrifying!
"Ling Wudeng, kneel!"
Lin Fan suddenly shouts, the Xuanyuan Sword in hand instantly fills with energy, transmitting through the Black Sword into Ling Wudeng's body.
A terrifying surge suddenly invades Ling Wudeng's body.
In an instant.
His chest, abdon, limbs are hit as if by thousands upon thousands of punches, each carrying the heaviest force.
Bang!
Ling Wudeng is flung backward, spinning three or four tis in the air, crashing heavily to the ground.
Right.
Forming a kneeling posture.
Crack.
Both knees burst open instantly, exploding directly, flesh and blood scattered!
"Ah——"
Ling Wudeng screams in agony, nearly fainting from the pain.
He looks at his bleeding legs, eyes nearly bulging out, his facial muscles twitching violently.
"Impossible... impossible... impossible..."
He murmurs softly, unable to believe the scene before him.
The Black Sword lies beside him.
Ling Wudeng glimpses it quickly, reaching to grab it.
However.
His knees are already useless, his body immobile.
A re milliter away from the Black Sword.
His hands tremble violently.
Grief.
Helplessness.
Terror.
Panic.
An overwhelming mix of emotions inside, tasting all flavors.
The mighty attendant of Suru Continent, the future Xuan Clan leader, now kneeling before a Ninth Rank Saint Emperor.
Worse than death, truly a fate worse than death!
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