At the sa ti, Yili executed the "Cloud Mist Thirteen Swords", a swordsmanship mysterious and unpredictable, like the ever-changing mist in the mountains.
Her wrist flicked lightly, the sword moves flowing with a blend of real and illusory, ever-changing; sotis the sword montum was like a sudden storm, swiftly stabbing out with chilling flashes, terrifying all; other tis, the moves were like a gentle breeze, seemingly soft and ethereal, yet hiding deadly attacks, catching people off guard.
In the impenetrable shadow of the staff, Yili moved gracefully, like an agile swallow, darting effortlessly through narrow gaps of wind and shadows, smooth and unimpeded. The fierce wind blew her hair into wild dances around her face, but it couldn’t disturb her focus.
Yili’s gaze was resolute and focused, locked tightly on Li ManCang’s every move; the flying sand and stones circled around her, seemingly alive, automatically avoiding her, in awe of her powerful aura and calm composure.
With eyes like torches, Yili stared intently at Li ManCang, like a leopard eyes its prey, sharply capturing his every subtle movent. Noticing a slight flaw in Li ManCang’s defenses due to pain, she wasted no ti, her right foot stomped the ground fiercely, body shooting forward like an arrow from a bow, sword in hand carrying a force that seed unstoppable, piercing fiercely through the wind and clouds.
At that mont, a sharp glint flashed in Yili’s eyes, like lightning tearing through the night sky, an indication of her determination to kill. With a "poof" sound, the sharp sword tip precisely stabbed into Li ManCang’s left leg, akin to a venomous snake striking with its tongue, hitting the target with a single blow.
Li ManCang grunted from the pain, his body montarily froze, his facial muscles twisted in agonizing pain, like remnants of flowers ravaged by a storm.
How could Yili let such an excellent opportunity pass? Her wrist turned swiftly, movents smooth as flowing clouds and water, like a spiritual snake, skillfully avoiding Li ManCang’s iron staff, a flash of cold light aid directly at his throat.
Her actions were seamless, fully demonstrating her superb swordsmanship and combat skills. At the sa ti, she pressed her lips tightly, face grave, completely invested in this deadly strike. Panic-stricken, Li ManCang’s eyes widened as if they would pop out of their sockets, wanting to dodge but finding his body sluggish with pain and shock, like a beast trapped in a quagmire, helplessly watching the sword tip nearing him, the shadow of death looming like dark clouds over his heart. The wind grew fiercer, causing surrounding trees to sway, leaves rustling, branches clashing with crackling sounds, trembling in response to the intensely tense situation.
The wind also picked up scattered limbs from the ground, revealing the ruthlessness of the fight, chilling the heart and soul, as if placed in a human purgatory. At this critical mont, a cold gleam shot rapidly from the side, aid directly at Yili’s back.
It turned out to be one of Li ManCang’s subordinates, hidden in the shadows, seeing the master in dire straits, hurriedly intervening covertly to assist.
How sharp was Yili, imdiately sensing the lethal danger surging from behind.
Her pupils suddenly contracted, like a cold star in the night sky dimming suddenly, her expression changed drastically, but she quickly regained composure, showcasing extraordinary calm. Her body twisted rapidly in the air like an eagle deftly shifting flight, while her left foot forcefully stomped on a protruding rock nearby, using the counterforce, her form shot out diagonally like lightning, the hidden weapon brushing past her robe with a slight breeze, akin to Death God’s scythe grazing past.
This delay gave Li ManCang the chance to leap backward, like an injured beast fleeing, widening the distance from Yili.
At this point, the sand and stones on the ground were lifted by the intense actions of both, perating the air, mixing with the battlefield’s bloody scent and dust, forming a turbid and oppressive atmosphere, making breathing difficult and heavy, as if each breath carried the scent of death.
The sand hitting the surrounding objects created crackling sounds, composing a dirge filled with despair and struggle.
Li ManCang clutched his wound, panting heavily, every breath accompanied by the pain from his injury, creating a muffled sound, like a worn-out bellows struggling to operate. He glared viciously at Yili, eyes filled with venom, a gaze that seed to want to cut Yili into pieces, gritting his teeth and said, "You little bitch, today won’t end well for you!" Having said that, he shakily pulled out a black bottle from his bosom, the bottle exuding a mysterious and eerie aura, as if it were an evil object from hell’s depths.
He forcefully pulled the cork, and instantly, a pungent and intense smoke spread rapidly, the smoke dark gray like the miasma from a demon’s mouth, blanketing everything in a haze.
This smoke was a ticulously crafted miasma by Li ManCang, once inhaled, it would cause imdiate dizziness, limbs becoming powerless, completely losing combat capability.
At this ti, the strong wind rapidly disseminated the miasma, the flowers and grass around the two of them trembled slightly under the miasma’s shroud, the once bright petals lost their color, becoming gray and withered, as if corroded by the evil aura, devoid of vitality.
The miasma ford strange smoke vortexes under the influence of the wind, as if hiding countless unknown dangers, seemingly the entrance to hell. Yili’s brows tightened like two intertwined willow leaves, a trace of vigilance in her eyes, like a fawn sensing danger. She thought to herself this was bad, hurriedly held her breath, circulated inner strength, and perford the "Qingfeng Shadow-Stepping Technique".
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