The other few elders also completely put away their dismissive attitude, concentrating intently on the dust in the air. They were just as curious about Han Yan's sword strike.
The Sword Light still shone brightly, and Han Yan's cold voice continued to echo around, but the sword had yet to descend.
One could imagine that for this sword stroke, she would definitely give it her all. Everyone was somewhat expectant.
But after waiting and waiting, after a full hundred breaths, the longsword still hadn't come down. Jiang Yunhe finally got a bit impatient and struck out with his palm.
As his palm force passed, the wind rose suddenly, and the dust dispersed, but there was no trace of Han Yan.
Looking intently into the distance, a slightly thin figure could be seen fleeing desperately into the distance.
