Jiang Cheng abruptly retreated, his figure gliding backward in midair. His body barely wavered as he borrowed the power of his blade to remain afloat, maintaining his balance effortlessly.
In the next instant, a small green knife shot out from his sleeve, its speed so swift it became a streak of emerald light tearing through the air toward Dong Yang.
Dong Yang's eyes narrowed into slits, and a small sword field instantly manifested around him. Within this domain, countless illusory swords shimmered into existence, their chimes ringing out in an endless symphony, as if a hundred blades were clashing at once.
"Hmph!" Jiang Cheng let out a cold snort.
As if responding to his intent, the green knife abruptly accelerated, its movement becoming even more unpredictable, leaving behind faint afterimages as it pierced through the air.
Xiao Ming's pupils contracted slightly. The small knife was paradoxically fast and slow at the same time, its trajectory both erratic and mesmerizing.
