Xiao Jin gripped the hilt and coldly looked down at Wang Yuan.
He had seen too many people die beneath the Nine Nether Baleful Suppression Demon Blade.
Anyone pierced by the Demon Blade would have his Vital Blood devoured bit by bit by the blood patterns on the blade, dying an extremely gruesome death.
Yet something about the young man before him was wrong.
Wang Yuan's face should have grown paler and more haggard by the second.
But at this moment, an eerie flush had surfaced across his face, as if his Vital Blood had surged to its limit, stretching his skin until it gleamed.
What unsettled Xiao Jin even more were Wang Yuan's hands, clenched around the blade.
Dark-red Killing Intent surged from the blade, crazily scorching his palms and burning his palm lines until they were charred black and curled.
But Wang Yuan did not let go or cry out.
Instead, his fingers tightened further around the blade, his knuckles paling as if he were desperately clutching something he refused to release.
An incomprehensible gleam churned in those pale-golden pupils. There was pain, excitement, and a near-greedy hunger.
"You..."
Xiao Jin furrowed his brow, suddenly sensing that something was wrong.
The Nine Nether Baleful Suppression Demon Blade was connected to his mind and heart. He could clearly sense every thread of Killing Intent flowing through the blade.
But now, he suddenly discovered that the Killing Intent within the blade was vanishing at an astonishing speed, as if something were sucking it away from the other end.
The Demon Blade's blood patterns should have been devouring Vital Blood through Wang Yuan's wound.
Yet those blood patterns were trembling faintly within Wang Yuan's abdomen, as if they had encountered something they feared.
Wang Yuan raised his head and looked at