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Chapter 672

The man in black was sent hurtling through the air, slamming into the ground with such force that he lay there motionlessly, struggling to rise. A gaping wound, carved by the relentless sword, oozed blood profusely from his abdomen.

"What in the world is that sword technique?" he gasped after a torturous effort to stand, his face ashen.

He had underestimated Blood Rakshasa's swordplay. Since her breakthrough to a higher echelon of mastery, her blade's might had surged, utterly dominating her seasoned adversary.

"The Sword Without a Name," Blood Rakshasa declared icily.

Without wasting another second, she launched another assault. Sabertooth was in dire straits, and she was determined to aid him.

Her blade danced again, weaving a web of sword energy that shot toward the white-haired elder, ensnaring him in an instant.

The old man's eyes narrowed in a flash of panic, realizing he was trapped with no way out.

"This is it!" he snarled, brandishing his blade and lunging forward.

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