That's enough.
...
"Dong Chongyang, you've fallen for it."
Han Xiaoru, clad in golden armor, now wields a broad bronze sword instead of the narrow-blade spear she previously seized.
Four finger-width wide, two finger-width thick, seven feet long, weighing seventy-two pounds.
With Han Xiaoru's physical strength of a thousand pounds, wielding it feels effortless. The perfection realm of Primordial Swordsmanship, seems clumsy yet clever, used to its fullest, exuding power and authority.
When the broadsword moves, wild winds swirl around, Yin and Yang rotate, displaying an invincible aura.
However, under these circumstances, Han Xiaoru doesn't hold the upper hand, instead, she's cautiously entangled in combat.
Opposite her, the Jade-Faced Chongtong General, swings a Flowing Gold Bell, thick and sturdy, emitting a deep, rumbling sound as if waving a large tree.
