Shi Feiyang stood firm amidst the storm, with howling winds and pouring rain, yet he remained unmoved.
He was like a towering mountain, exuding an awe-inspiring presence.
His legs slightly bent, his body sank down, resembling a leopard lurking in the night, ready to pounce, emanating a chilling intimidation. Suddenly, he let out a loud roar, a sound like a resounding bell or thunderclap, shaking the air around him with such intensity that it seemed almost tangible, reverberating with a buzzing sound.
In an instant, the Myanmar Saber in his hand traced a brilliant and deadly arc in the air with an astonishing speed and angle. His arm muscles were taut, like ropes forged from steel, channeling power from his waist, surging through his legs with a powerful push, like a mighty wave traveling through his body's meridians, gathering unreservedly onto the saber.
