A treasured sword flew out from the Oil-paper Umbrella and struck the shadow's right arm precisely.
No sooner said than done. Before the shadow could pull out the sword, an Oil-paper Umbrella rushed toward him like a gust of wind. In the blink of an eye, the sword vanished, leaving only a tiny paper umbrella spinning and whirling rapidly before his eyes. It whipped up a fierce gale that left him dizzy, staggering backward unceasingly.
Behind the shadow was a courtyard wall. Clutching the bleeding wound on his arm, he mustered his remaining strength to leap onto the wall and fled in a panic.
Chapter 449