A Vain Delight

Yet the one thing Xiang Yang could be certain of was that this long black-sheathed saber was absolutely not a divine weapon. It felt entirely different from Quexie and Biekong—both like a dead thing and like a living being.

"Your disciple Sang Zhe asks Master to slay the enemy."

The Demonic Blade disciple called himself Sang Zhe. With both hands supporting the saber sheath at its guard, he spoke those words, then closed his eyes, utterly abandoning all vigilance, like an empty shell sunk into despair and awaiting death.

The long black-sheathed saber clattered and trembled. A visible black mist spread from the blade, slowly forming a wavering humanoid shape that shot toward Sang Zhe's brow.

"An Innate Primordial Spirit? Not good! This demon means to borrow a shell and be reborn! Chai Ba, Chai Jiu, leave at once!"

Watching this unfold, Fifth Xianjun's expression changed drastically. His lips were barely working as he shouted for Chai Ba and Chai Jiu to flee. The red-bronze gate behind them was now undefended, allowing free passage in and out. This was the perfect chance.

As for Xiang Yang, he could only pray for his own luck. No matter how strong the acquired realm was, it was still acquired. Before the innate realm, one had to kneel.

"An Innate Primordial Spirit? So that was it. Refining Essence into Qi, refining Qi to return to Spirit—Spirit originally referred to the mind. Once the mind had achieved something, it became the Primordial Spirit. He wanted to use his disciple's body as a shell to kill me?"

Hearing Fifth Xianjun shout in panic, Xiang Yang drew upon his own knowledge to speculate about the transformation before him.

Either this demon's physical body had died, leaving his Primordial Spirit attached to the saber to cling to life,