Due to the fog that often shrouded the nights here, most houses were built with large indoor spaces. The dining hall they were currently in, for example, was at least two hundred square meters—incredibly spacious.
Mingde stood in an empty space, his right hand hanging naturally, fingertips pointing toward the ground.
"Watch closely. The first technique of the Qingfeng Sword—Wind Formless!"
SWISH!
His right hand suddenly blurred into a complex flurry of afterimages. The dozen or so afterimages slowly coalesced like the petals of a flower bud.
The next instant, the flower bud abruptly blossomed, and a faint white gleam of sword light stabbed out from its center.
Though it was just his fingers, the sword light he produced struck the ground as if it were a real longsword.
PHUT!
A black hole of unknown depth appeared on the ground.
Mingde slowly withdrew his hand.
"Now for the second technique, Single-Handed Cloud Brushing!"
