Surviving In A Martial Arts World To Become A Saint

The claw wind had not yet arrived, but that pressure as tangible as substance already pressed against their faces.

Chen Qing reacted extremely quickly, stomping his foot hard as his form shot backward like an arrow released from its string.

Xu Min seemed almost of one mind with him. The instant he moved, her toes lightly tapped the ground and her figure drifted back several zhang like willow catkins in the wind, narrowly brushing past the massive descending shadow.

As for Hua Yunfeng, positioned at the very center of the claw strike, facing this blow capable of splitting mountains and cracking stone, his expression showed not the slightest fluctuation.

His stooped body seemed to straighten slightly in an instant, and the seemingly ancient long sword in his hand emitted a humming sound, as if awakening from slumber.

"Hum—!"

Upon the sword body, no brilliant radiance burst forth, only a layer of pale azure sword qi condensed to the extreme, flickering uncertainly.

Hua Yunfeng's wrist turned slightly as he executed a simple diagonal upward slash with his sword, meeting the massive descending dragon claw.

This sword strike had no grand momentum, yet was so fast it exceeded the limits of visual capture. Its trajectory was profound and mysterious, as if secretly harmonizing with some rhythm of heaven and earth.