The atmosphere was tense and fierce, directly aimed at Wang Anfeng. Before the sound of the zither ceased, exclamations erupted from nearby, and the sword qi had already passed by, severing all the zither strings at their midpoint. The seven zither strings snapped one by one, turning the music into a harsh cacophony that buzzed incessantly.
The sword qi dispersed without harming Wang Anfeng.
His hand, which had been pressing down, lingered in the air.
The instrument, filled with the musician's remorse and anguish, emitted a final hoarse sound, prompting him to narrow his dark eyes.
Those around were momentarily stunned, as the tall young nobles of the Xiongnu Tribe clapped and cheered in unison.
Helian Pan laughed heartily and shouted:
"What a remarkable sword weaponry, what a splendid sword dance!"
"The Central Plains instrument is soft and lacks spine. In the end, it borrowed the young lady's sword qi to emit a sound worthy of hearing."
"My apologies, young master."
