The Zhao Clan cultivator—confident, arrogant, and already envisioning his victory—charged in with a blaze of techniques.
After all, he was a Top Nascent Soul cultivator. And Nie Fengzhuo?
At best, early Nascent Soul. Worse, he had no major clan or sect backing him.
How strong could he possibly be?
Even at the same cultivation level, with his superior techniques, he believed it would be an easy victory for him.
That was the assumption.
And that assumption cost him everything.
Nie Fengzhuo effortlessly dodged the Zhao cultivator's techniques as if they were child's play, his movements calm and unhurried.
"H-How?"
All his attacks, it only hit air and nothing else.
Then when he has finished attacking, Nie Fengzhuo.
Nie Fengzhuo's sword moved only once.
A single slash!
Clean. Sharp. Deceptively simple.
The Zhao cultivator's defenses shattered as though they were paper, and blood sprayed across the stage.
