Jiang Xiaobai continuously wielded the Yuanhong in his hand.
At this moment, he felt as if he had truly become one with the sword, completely able to grasp the so-called Sword Dao.
Every thrust, every lift, every chop.
All carried a different rhythm, the rules of heaven and earth, the taste of Daoism.
He had never experienced this feeling before, had never possessed it before!
And as he continued to practice, he felt that he was getting closer and closer to grasping the most crucial point of the Sword Dao.
It seemed to be right before his eyes!
No matter how hard he practiced the basic sword techniques, he couldn't improve a bit.
The feeling was always there, but he couldn't break through!
It was as if you were about to pierce through the paper-thin window, but couldn't discover the agony of not being able to take a step forward.
It was simply torturous!
Finally, Jiang Xiaobai stopped.
"Sword Dao, Dao, what exactly is it..."
