Tang Huan glanced at Yan Qi, expressionless, and walked alone into the wide snowy field.
Yan Qi was equally silent, approaching him from the opposite side.
"You draw your sword," Tang Huan said, looking at Yan Qi.
Yan Qi didn't speak. He moved forward, and Tang Huan still didn't care. Although the Sword Cultivators on the Green Cloud List weren't necessarily the strongest, they had at least been proven, even if they were the last one on the list.
A beam of light appeared, entering Tang Huan's line of sight. By the time he realized something was wrong, the sword was already slashing toward his throat.
The snowflakes in the air seemed to freeze, and the crowd, who intended to enjoy the spectacle, held their wine glasses in midair, their eyes fixed intently on that one sword strike.
It was a breathtaking moment.
All of them were connoisseurs, naturally aware of the value of this sword move. It was like lightning streaking across the sky, difficult to catch with the naked eye.
