The booming sound of the shattered sword beams still echoed in their ears when another golden sword beam shot into the sky from the hall, piercing the gloomy clouds.
The beam exploded mid-air, transforming into countless sword beams, like a torrential downpour sweeping towards Chen Ping and Yun Wuya.
Chen Ping’s eyes sharpened. Without hesitation, he drew his Dragon-Slaying Sword, its blade glinting coldly.
With a loud shout, his spiritual energy surged wildly. As he swung his arm, thousands of sword beams shot out.
The two storms of sword beams collided with a deafening crash. In an instant, the entire world seemed engulfed in dazzling light, with powerful energy waves radiating outward from the point of impact.
Loose stones on the ground were swept up by the fierce gusts, swirling in the air before crashing back down.
After a brief but intense clash, all the sword beams vanished, leaving only devastation behind.
Without a moment’s pause, Chen Ping grabbed Yun Wuya and rushed into the hall.
But the moment they stepped inside, they found it utterly empty, save for broken walls and ruins, not a single soul in sight.
“How is this possible? That array of ten thousand swords was so powerful, how could there be no one here?”
Yun Wuya’s face was full of shock, his voice laced with unconcealed doubt and fear.
Chen Ping frowned, his eyes brimming with caution, and said slowly, “Someone must be controlling this from the shadows. We just haven’t found them yet.”
As he spoke, he fully extended his divine sense, trying to locate the mysterious figure.
As his divine sense roamed, he suddenly noticed a stone statue deep within the hall.
The statue held a simple, ancient sword and stood silently, as if it had been there for countless ages.
The statue was covered in the marks of time, its surface uneven and crisscrossed with cracks, yet the sword in its hand emitted a faint glow, as if brimming with boundless power.
Chen Ping’s heart stirred, and he directed his divine sense towards the statue.
Then, something eerie happened! The statue, previously motionless, came to life. Its eyes flashed with a sharp light, and the sword in its hand struck towards Chen Ping like lightning.
Chen Ping reacted swiftly, raising his sword to block.
A loud “clang!” rang out, sparks flying.
Chen Ping felt a tremendous force from the sword, numbing his arm. He was shocked; the statue’s strength far exceeded his expectations.
The statue’s assault didn’t stop. Its swordplay was unpredictable, each strike carrying a fierce sword intent, as if determined to slay Chen Ping completely.
Chen Ping fought with all his might, his Dragon-Slaying Sword dancing in his hands, employing various intricate sword techniques.
Yet the statue’s power was overwhelming, and Chen Ping gradually found himself at a disadvantage.
The statue suddenly quickened its attacks, its sword shadows overlapping, dazzling to the eye.
Caught off guard, Chen Ping was left with several fine wounds by the statue.
Blood seeped out, staining his clothes red.
Chen Ping was stunned. His body, tempered countless times and incredibly resilient, had been easily scarred by this statue.
Yun Wuya watched anxiously from the side, desperate to help but afraid his own strength was too weak and would only hinder Chen Ping.
He could only shout encouragement while vigilantly scanning their surroundings for other potential dangers.
Chen Ping took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm.
He knew that continuing like this would lead to his death. He needed a strategy.
While dodging the statue’s attacks, he carefully observed its swordplay patterns.
After some observation, he noticed that, though the statue’s swordsmanship was exquisite, it had subtle flaws.
Chen Ping’s heart leapt with hope. Seizing an opportunity, his Dragon-Slaying Sword glowed brightly, and a massive sword shadow slashed towards the statue.
