Victory and Defeat

His powerful physique, like that of a ferocious beast, could not move or exert strength, much less dodge.

His blazing True Qi, molten as lava and erupting like a volcano, likewise could not flow or circulate.

Even his thoughts and ideas had stiffened and frozen within his mind.

Crimson-Faced Heavenly King was utterly horrified, his eyes round as bronze bells as he stared at the sword light slowly thrusting toward him.

That sword light glittered with golden specks, like fragments of warm sunlight scattered by the noon sun in the sky, yet it was a truly earth-shaking sword-killing move, brimming with endless murderous intent.

That Duàn Yì could wield such a sword technique, and that such a sword technique could exist in the human world, was truly terrifying and dreadful.

Had Crimson-Faced Heavenly King known that beyond the Fourteen Deadly Swords lay a Fifteen Fatal Sword Strikes, the true supreme and ultimate art, he would likely have felt that if one heard the Dao in the morning, one could die that evening without regret.

For a martial artist, dying beneath the Fifteen Fatal Sword Strikes was itself a supreme honor.

And though Crimson-Faced Heavenly King was shocked, uneasy, and faced with the unknown, he had not yet despaired, because he still had hope.

The refined spirit he had forged over many years and his unyielding will finally came into play.

He viciously bit through the tip of his tongue. The tender flesh was soft and slick; with one bite, a fishy-sweet hot current spread out and poured down his throat, seeming to surge along his esophagus into every corner of his body, bringing him a new source of strength.

That heart-piercing pain also allowed him to break through the strange force that had bound and sealed him, letting him regain