When a name was given, an identity was bestowed, and thus the Zheng Jia Dong Gong was born.
Zheng Yanxin thought to himself.
The reason a fragment of the incantation he had woven in his childhood resurfaced was simple.
The martial arts ingrained in his body were the most powerful weapons, and facing a formidable opponent, he recalled them.
The boy could recite over three hundred incantations like a bolt of lightning.
Creating a new technique in the midst of battle seemed difficult.
A great enemy stood before him.
The legendary swordsman, the Sword Demon Dugu Guang.
A top-tier master of the Ten Thousand Swords Sect.
The man, clad in armor like a general, radiated an aura as imposing as his attire.
He was one of the most renowned martial artists from the Thirteen Thousand Great Waves.
This meant he could stand toe-to-toe with the black-clad warriors of Yuhuang City.
The wrinkles around his eyes were likely a testament to the depth of his experience in the martial world.
"The strongest among life-and-death adversaries," Zheng Yanxin thought.
The caliber of those he had fought until now was different.
Even including Qing Qilin Namgung Sejin, it was so.
Even if the Emperor Sword Form was an overwhelming sword technique, the aura emanating from the seasoned master before him felt even more terrifying.