Chapter 13148 — The Earth Treasury Blade Leaves Its Sheath

There was no trace of blade-qi at all; the impression it gave was simply of a man casually cleaving the empty air.

The next second, Dragon Slaying, which had been lunging forward with a ferocious swipe of its claw, abruptly froze mid-motion—and then its entire head dropped clean off on the spot.

One stroke, one kill.

A deathly silence fell over the entire venue.

Judge Song was so astonished he lost all composure: "No—how is this possible?"

The rest of the panel of judges were likewise dumbstruck.

Only at this moment did they finally grasp what had happened.

So sheathing the blade had been for the sake of drawing it!

"Is this some kind of divine skill...?"

With that, Naruto paid Uchiha Itachi no further attention, shifted his body to find a comfortable position, and closed his eyes.

Such skill as he had shown in that brief moment set tongues wagging furiously once more; some were moved, some were quick to find fault.

Rather than fly into a rage, Du Feiyu found himself thinking this fellow's character was not thoroughgoing enough—nothing but an empty husk.

So thinking, Zhao Teng idly lifted his head and glanced outside the door—and at once caught sight of Li Shui standing at the very front.

The elf arrays and arcane arts were of ancient lineage and exquisitely marvelous; this did not particularly surprise him, but it filled him with intense curiosity.

After all, he had just been defeated by the banished immortal's disciple and had grasped a few new principles besides; Fusu was eager to see it for himself.

The same was true of the Fourth Division: the brothers of the raiding party had slipped past within a hundred meters of the enemy sentry post several times, and the Japanese troops inside had never noticed a thing.

Qu Die's words, too, drew a wave of grateful looks from the villagers; compared with the aloof and self-regarding Xie Yu'er, Qu Die's defense of them only made her character shine the brighter.

Yet that ceaseless, churning tempest of surging waves battered and raged against Ye Fei's mortal shell, like a deluge crashing against an imperishable primordial divine mountain—and left not the slightest scratch.

Yuyang turned his head at the sound; it was Lin Xiufen. She seemed to have dressed with particular care, and looked rather prettier than usual. Yuyang could not help feeling his eyes light up, and he hastily reached out and patted the bench beside him, motioning for her to sit.

Watching his mother's retreating figure, the King of Xianyang dared not give chase; he simply watched her vanish into the dark corridor and knelt there blankly for a long while.

Tuoba Shen studied the twins for a few moments. They were not much older than Xiao Lingyuan; though not yet fully grown into their features, their grace was already beginning to show. They must have cost no small effort in training and grooming, he thought, having been bought in the first place to entertain and distract.

Those so-called geniuses were simply a bit luckier than the rest, with a bit more resources—as for being powerful, in truth they were not that much stronger.

Then I ran out into the courtyard, pulled out the Eight Trigrams Mirror, and drew a Yin-Gathering Talisman on the ground. The yin energy underground was heavy, and in the space of some ten-odd seconds the talisman had already gathered a considerable amount of it.

Looking at Tuoba Xun's dejected expression, Tuoba Shen knew he was again agonizing over the classics question Ma Jun had left behind today. He turned and exchanged a glance with Tuoba Ke, and mirth showed in both their eyes.

Having sacrificed one tail, it was reduced to eight and its strength had fallen—yet it had regained its freedom.

With trembling hands he opened his Twitter account, and in an instant a flood of notifications came rushing in, a sound that all but drowned him outright.

After Chen Xinjia was killed, Ma Shaoyu lost his patron. Because Gao Qiqian had once served as supervising commander in Liaodong, the two had crossed paths before and got on fairly well, so he attached himself to Gao Qiqian instead. But unlike his gratitude toward Chen Xinjia for recognizing his worth, his bond with Gao Qiqian was more a matter of mutual reliance.

Sister Zhao was in her twenties—tall and slender, with fair skin, and a pair of big eyes that were always smiling, which made her very likable. She was not a local; word had it her husband had brought her back from elsewhere. Her family had been poor—the kind of poor where you cannot even put food on the table—and her husband had led her away for a mere thousand yuan.

But seeing as the man was an editor extending him an olive branch, he would never say such things aloud.

Xia Junhui suspected he had misheard. This was a dangerous operation with only a five percent success rate, and this newly arrived director was actually willing to take it on. He was shocked and excited at once; he certainly did not want a lifetime of fine reputation ruined on this. He told himself it must be that Chen Qiang was eager to prove himself, and that was why he had taken the case.