In an instant, everyone looked skyward.
Above the sword path formed by flying swords, someone walked with ease, riding one of the blades. This person, much like Li Fan, was dressed in a flowing white robe—elegant and poised. His sword-like brows framed piercing eyes that shone like stars, his gaze radiant and unyielding. Surrounding him was an aura of Sword Intent, swirling like an unsheathed blade, sharp to the extreme.
The nearby citizens gazed in wonder at the figure riding the sword, their faces filled with envy. To them, this man descended like a Sword Immortal.
Chen Yan's pupils contracted, fixated on that figure. The faint trace of Sword Intent on Li Fan seemed to have originated from this man, yet what Li Fan had was far less lethal.
Silently, he retreated into the crowd, blending in unnoticed.
*The murderous aura within that Sword Intent was unbearably intense; one would be wise to avoid its edge.*
