A gentle breeze flapped Li Meirong’s wide sleeves as she grabbed her spiritually made blade.
On the other side of the stage, Liu Jiayu’s eyes were filled with a cold light. Wei Qi’s accidental death had thrown her a bit off balance, but not enough for an armament master such as herself to back away from the fight ahead.
Liu Jiayu was not sure what kind of magic Li Meirong possessed that she did not bleed, but she did not intend to lose to a newly recruited junior.
When it came to martial arts, Liu Jiayu was the one with the superior experience and training, and so she was not overly concerned about the outcome of the battle. All she had to do was make the tiniest slice on Li Meirong’s skin, and the Bloodsucking Parasol would activate its powers.
She carefully placed the Bloodsucking Parasol at her feet, and then manifested a thin, elegant looking sword from her spatial bag.
Without any further delay, Liu Jiayu furiously sprang up while shouting a battle cry. She charged at Li Meirong with a powerful leap.
As Liu Jiayu leapt towards Li Meirong with a skillful jump, she raised her sword high above her shoulders, only to drive it downwards with every intention to kill.
Her strike, however, was easily blocked by the tiny spectral blade Li Meirong held.
Their weapons clashed in a furious dance, but in spite of Liu Jiayu’s aggressive onslaught, Li Meirong managed to expertly counter every single strike.
Li Meirong sighed as she continued parrying Liu Jiayu’s blows, her blade held vertically.
Although she kept blocking each oncoming attack, she made no further move to counterstrike Liu Jiayu.
Li Meirong seemed to be, for lack of a better word, quite bored. It was as if this whole tournament was nothing more than a bothersome waste of time to her.
"I planned to spare you if you would have kept your word and stood in place. Alas..." Li Meirong’s voice filled up with emotion, as if the prospect of retaliating made her despair. "I have no choice but to punish you for your insolence."
’What is this girl playing at?!’ Liu Jiayu thought, mouth hanging slightly open in astonishment at Li Meirong’s audacity. At this point, she became uncertain as to who, exactly, the master of pretense was, between the two of them...
Right now, though, Liu Jiayu had no time to ponder over Li Meirong’s pretend righteousness, as her own strength was depleting rapidly.
She started panting between each strike.
"Do you honestly think you’re in a position to discipline me?" Liu Jiayu spat out as she drove her sword forward, only to be blocked once more by Li Meirong’s spectral blade.
Li Meirong smiled smugly, her bright eyes sparkled with amusement. "If not me, then who else?"
"You arrogant little slut! Do you even know who I am? I’m the succeeding disciple of the Armament Division! I—"
PAH!
Li Meirong dropped her blade and caught Liu Jiayu’s sword with her bare hand. She then turned and used her other hand to slap Liu Jiayu hard across the face.
The sound of the impact was crisp and shocking.
"How dare you swear at me!" Li Meirong roared. The aura surrounding her grew pitch black.
The force of her slap was so great that several of Liu Jiayu’s teeth were knocked out.
Liu Jiayu had no time to comprehend what had just occurred before she was thrown several feet by the powerful strike.
Blood poured from the gash on Li Meirong’s palm, caused when she had held back Liu Jiayu’s blade, but it did not seem to bother her at all. She strode forward, a terrifying amount of malevolent energy sizzling around her.
She looked like Death personified.
No one was sure what, exactly, had brought about the sudden, fierce change to Li Meirong’s attitude. She had seemed almost nonchalant up until that moment, as if the battle had been nothing more than a child’s play.
Yet as soon as Liu Jiayu had cursed at her, a switch seemed to have flipped inside Li Meirong.
This content is taken from fr(e)ewebn(o)vel.𝓬𝓸𝓶