Chapter 442

The saber strike that condensed a lifetime of practice was broken in two in mid-air.

The Japanese leader's eyes were dazed for a moment.

He couldn't understand the scene he saw in that instant.

The saber... broke?

But the blade was still moving forward by inertia, and no counter-shock force from hitting a hard object came from the hilt; this "Iai" strike was still continuing, without the slightest delay.

But that finger stood there, motionless, passing through the blade like a phantom. And the playfulness and ease in those eyes, as if watching a child clamoring, remained unchanged.

Was it an illusion?

The next instant, the Japanese leader knew the answer.

The blade reached the apex of the semicircle, and the arm retracted, but only the hilt and half the blade retracted with the arm.

Swish!

The half-blade flew out in a straight line, but it happened to be stuck beside Wu Zhi's ear, disappearing into the wall.

"Ah!"

The next instant, Wu Zhi's scream came late, waking the Japanese leader from his shock.

"!!!"

Swish!

The half-blade instinctively returned to the scabbard. He poured all his strength into his arm, his muscles suddenly bulging, squeezing the air out of his sleeves and making a loud bang.

"I don't believe it!"

He raised his bloodshot eyes and looked at the tall figure in front of him.

The front was white undergarments, and the lower body was the same white undergarments, as if he had just come down from the bed, his left hand tucked in his bosom, his right hand casually raising a finger, with flaws everywhere on his body.

But those pupils, black as ink, seemed to gradually merge with the bear-fur cloak he was wearing, turning into the entire dark night sky, enveloping him. And he was like an insect screaming at the night sky, even if he exhausted his essence and blood, he couldn't escape the envelopment of this night sky.

In a trance, the Japanese leader seemed to have returned to when he first started practicing martial arts, and the person opposite him was his master, whose back he could never see no matter how hard he tried.

He had also been defeated in such despair.

But at that time, after defeating him, his master walked up to him, squatted down, and said to him.

"Ikki-kun, what I want to teach you today is to admit your own weakness and admit the opponent's strength."

"What is swordsmanship?"

"Swordsmanship is not a technique for the strong to abuse the weak, but a means for the weak to resist the strong. You might run into an opponent so strong that you despair one day, and I hope you remember the secret to defeating the strong."

His master placed his hand on his shoulder.

The tenderness in his tone vanished, and the clanging murderous intent condensed into a hammer, wedging his firm words into his mind.

"If you are weaker than others, concentrate your power!"

"If you can't catch up to others, squeeze your power dry!"

"Abandon your soul, abandon your life, abandon your blood! Squeeze your physical strength dry, empty your flesh and blood, and dedicate everything you have to the sword in your hand! You don't need a breath; one sword is enough!"

"Refine your essence, and cross this extreme instant!!!"

The memory suddenly dissipated.

"Die!"

Hoki-ryu secret technique—Iai!

The blade, with only half left, suddenly popped out of the scabbard. The moment he swung this strike, blood spurted from his eyes, his arm muscles snapped one by one, and his bones made a miserable sound of almost breaking!

He couldn't tell if he was swinging the sword or if the sword was pulling his arm.

But he could be certain that he had swung everything he had.

Life, future, essence and blood, all dedicated! In exchange for this peak strike! A strike faster and more fatal than his strongest self!

There was no sorrow or joy in his eyes, because he knew this strike would allow him to defeat an impossible enemy. Even if he died of internal injuries after swinging this strike, it was the best ending for a martial artist like him.

His gaze barely caught up with the blade.

The blade approached his neck instantly.

Time seemed to stand still.

In this extreme instant, the tall man smiled.

"Your voice is quite loud, but unfortunately—"

He extended that hand again, curled his index finger, pinched the tip of his index finger with his thumb, and faced the blade.

The moment it touched the blade.

His thumb relaxed, and his index finger flicked out.

"Unfortunately, still pitifully weak."

Snap.

Whoosh—

The last half of the blade was flicked into pieces, and countless blade fragments flew backward, instantly filling the Japanese leader's entire field of vision.