The boy, once so fresh-faced and young, now wore an utterly ferocious expression mere inches from Chu Mu. His eyes were crimson, his face a mask of madness.
The treasured saber, so sharp it could slice a falling hair, only managed to tear a slit in the boy's chest clothing when it struck his body.
The recoil, like striking iron, proved beyond a doubt that the boy was completely unharmed by his strike!
"Scram!"
The boy's low shout was just a single word, yet it sounded like the wails of ghosts and howls of wolves. All at once, Chu Mu felt an unimaginable force travel up from his saber's edge.
His treasured saber, which could hack through stone without dulling its edge, shattered to pieces under this immense force!
And Chu Mu, a mere man of flesh and blood, was sent flying backward like a kite with a snapped string. He crashed into a wall before tumbling to the ground.
