"One Qi Transforms Three Thousand."
Jiang Li stood still, and from behind him, lines of energy walls began to rise, two thousand walls resisting and countering the sword energy that tore through space.
The pitch-black rift seemed to cut through the multitude of energy walls unstoppably, their sheer number unable to halt that ultimate sharpness. Yet, after breaching two thousand walls, the sword's momentum leaked, and its fierce intensity was somewhat diminished.
The rift advanced further, but Jiang Li had already turned around, seemingly slowly yet swiftly, and reached out to grab it.
On his palm, blood energy surged up, scorching like the sun, revealing silhouettes of mountains—icy, majestic, towering, righteous, perilous—the shapes of the Five Mountains all within his grasp.
