The cold moon treasure blade chopped down on the thirty-meter blade aura without causing it to burst, leaving only a dazzling blade light on the blade, too brilliant for the naked eye, effortlessly splitting the thirty-meter blade aura in half as if slicing through silk.
"Clang!"
The descending cold moon treasure blade heavily struck the rising katana, and the powerful force instantly pressed the katana down onto the chest of the armless Dongying expert, who had already been severely wounded. A spurt of warm blood sprayed onto Yang Ge’s face, and the energy he mustered faded away almost instantly.
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"Bang."
Yang Ge pressed down on the katana with his blade, heavily smashing the Dongying expert into the densely packed surge of Dongying soldiers, killing a swath of them and clearing a large empty space.
The Dongying expert, now devoid of all power to counterattack, lay at his feet, his mouth and nose continuously spurting thick, crimson blood. Yet, he still tried his best to support the katana with his only arm, blocking the cold moon treasure blade as though he still hoped for a miracle...
Yang Ge glanced at him, only now clearly seeing the appearance of the Dongying expert... a figure uncommonly tall and robust among the pirates, with well-defined muscles carved from years of diligent training, and a face with thick brows and a heavy beard, still bearing traces of his old, imposing demeanor.
It was clear, this man had once held a high and undisputed position in Dongying.
Yang Ge stared into his resentful eyes, the corners of his mouth slowly curving into a smile, as he kicked and broke the man’s remaining arm. Then, bending down to grab the man by his topknot, he hoisted his mud-like body up, turned his face in a certain direction, and sawed his neck several times with the cold moon treasure blade before finally severing his head.
Until his death, the Dongying expert didn’t let out a single cry of pain but stared stubbornly ahead as if unable to believe that his most revered master would leave him unaided...
"Is he really that heartless?"
Yang Ge laughed loudly, voicing the man’s innermost doubts, "He died trying to save you!"
He swung the severed head into the throng of Dongying soldiers, and as it burst through several of them, engulfed in blade energy, it landed in a dry, skinny hand.
The owner of the hand, who possessed a gentle yet severe elder’s face, conveyed a sense of stern compassion. He stared indifferently at the head for several breaths before softly closing the unyielding eyes and with a deep voice gently said, "Shangquan, you have spilled your last drop of blood for Fusang..."
The surrounding Dongying soldiers hastily made space for the two in the crowded battlefield.
Yang Ge fixed his gaze on that gaunt figure, adjusting his state leisurely, ready to relish the forthcoming, fierce battle...
Whether the muscular Dongying expert had ever reached the heights of the seven strongest warriors of Shenzhou, Yang Ge wasn’t sure.
He only knew that in his prime, this man would have been stronger than Xiang Wudi, and even Wang Lin of the White Lotus Sect who had fallen under his blade, likely faring at least thirty moves against him in direct combat.
Unfortunately, the man’s spirit was not strong enough; he had never positioned himself as an equal opponent from the start, instead always following the lead of this gaunt Dongying expert.
With weak spirit, being able to exert seventy percent of one’s abilities was already quite good.
This gaunt Dongying expert gave Yang Ge a complex feeling.
Judging by the intensity of aura, this man’s presence was still inferior to that of the Grandmaster Tong Ying whom he had met by the Huai’an Bian River.
However, the pressure and threat felt from this man even exceeded those from the encounter with Tong Ying!
How to describe this sensation...
It was as if Tong Ying was a giant fat man, two meters tall and weighing over three hundred pounds; even if he was fat, the sheer difference in height and weight could still instill a massive sense of oppression!
While this gaunt Dongying expert seemed like a Muay Thai master under seven feet tall, who forged his body’s joints into deadly weapons, his stature and weight far less than the fat man, yet he exuded an extreme sense of danger!
Reflecting on the man’s extremely fast and fierce strike from earlier, Yang Ge felt confident in his judgment!
After carefully placing the head on the ground, the gaunt Dongying expert stood up, bowed to Yang Ge with his katana at the waist, and said in perfect Chinese, "From the ’Shinto Stream of Divine Truth,’ I, Tomb Mori, have arrived."
Yang Ge took a deep breath, held down his cold moon treasure blade, and bowed deeply.
The next second, both men dashed forward, their blades so fast they could only see two streaks of gleaming blade light clashing violently together.
"Hahaha..."
Yang Ge roared with laughter, "I knew you little devils never cared about martial ethics... take another three hundred slashes from me!"
He fiercely forced Tomb Mori back, lunged forward in a sprint, and swung his blade once more.
Tomb Mori stepped back, his wooden clogs heavily stomping on the blood-soaked muddy ground, then quickly lunged his blade like lightning toward Yang Ge’s armpit.