"Tempered?"
Jing Ke squinted his eyes. On his delicate and handsome face, a trace of a sneer crossed, and then, three sharp small knives appeared in his hand.
"Swish, swish, swish!"
Jing Ke's hands moved as fast as lightning. Only the sound of three piercing winds could be heard as the sharp small knives once again vanished into the darkness.
Under the gentle moonlight, the sharp knives were very conspicuous, like scimitars piercing through the long night, disappearing from everyone's sight.
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
Like iron colliding with stone walls, a crisp sound suddenly rang out.
The three sharp small knives once again fell to the ground!
At this moment, a hunched figure, clearly a gray-haired elderly man, walked slowly out of the darkness, appearing very extraordinary and refined.
"The young brother's Flying Knife must have reached the Divine realm."
