C203 Tyrant Sword Saint

Half an hour later, the water swords that had formed from a single curtain of water had multiplied to over a thousand, densely packed like droplets of rain.

Ye Han gripped his iron sword, feeling the weight in his arms growing heavier. His forehead was slick with sweat beads, and the relentless, high-intensity swinging of the iron sword had greatly depleted his Psychic Force.

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