Zhu Cheng hesitated for a moment, weighed the sword hilt in his hand again, and then looked at a stone pillar large enough for two people to embrace. Gathering his strength, he slashed at the pillar with the sword.
With a clang, at the very moment the blade struck heavily against the pillar, the sword vibrated and snapped in half at the waist. One half remained attached to the hilt, still in Zhu Cheng's hand, while the other half fell to the ground with another clang.
The sound of the short sword hitting the ground was much softer than the one made when striking the pillar, yet it felt like a sledgehammer pounding on Zhu Cheng's heart, causing it to skip a beat. He was terrified; in an instant, the hair on his back stood on end, goosebumps rose all over his body, and soon his inner shirt was drenched in cold sweat.
