Lin Yuancheng was no pushover either. Before Brother Sun could finish his sentence, he had already made his move.
His sword was very fast.
Even though his body was in poor condition, his swordsmanship didn't lose its luster.
"Pathetic Sigh," true to its name, was a lonely style of swordplay. Whenever his blade danced elegantly, Lin Yuancheng seemed to be starting a solo performance, while those who tried to dance with him would wither away after a brief misstep.
In an instant, the cold sword light would gently bloom, stirring up droplets of blood.
Most of the assassins killed by Lin Yuancheng died from a swift sword strike to the throat, never even having a chance to scream before losing consciousness.
On the other hand, people who were cut down by Sun Yixie fared much worse. His trident lacked any form or finesse. It was purely the brute force of his Inner Strength and the nature of his Divine weapon, which cut through iron like mud, that bullied his opponents.
