"Clang--" The sword's hum was deep and obscure, as a towering great sword suspended itself mid-air, its blade as tall as half a person, standing erect without anyone wielding it.
In the realm of weapons, the sword carries the reputation of the king, and only a Sword Dark Saint capable of making the sword seem formless and traceless, appearing without a shadow and vanishing without a trace, can reach such a realm.
Xie San's beautiful peach-blossom eyes tightened, under his three fingers, the Ghost Face Axe conveyed a sense of trepidation, as if it held a deep fear for that great sword.
The voice was old and strong, yet without the slightest fluctuation of Dark Power.
Having been an assassin for so many years, Xie San had almost never felt like today, completely unable to detect the presence of the enemy, but the elder's voice was as clear as if it were right by his ear.
