Blood slid down the tip of the blade in an unbroken trail, like red agates rolling across a lamb's skin.
Red.
It was a vivid, brilliant, living color, standing in stark contrast to the cold, pitiless gray blade. The opposition of red and white reflected against each other, delivering an instant blow to the eyes, like a fist striking directly into one's vision—stinging, aching, yet impossible to ignore.
Screech—
Li Aoz slowly pulled his long blade from the skull of the eleventh Esha Armed girl. The icy edge emerged bathed in warm blood. Though it had clearly drunk its fill, it still let out a thin, piercing hum.
Gugugeaaaa...
The sword's cry, like that of some grotesque bird or evil ghost, resonated through the bones of his palm and drilled into his brain, pleading with Li Aoz.
"More..."
Smack.
Li Aoz flicked his wrist, bent his left arm, clamped the back of the blade in the crook of his elbow, and slowly drew it through his sleeve, lightly wiping away the blood.
It was said that Heavenly Ring Warriors had a technique called "blood flicking," where a light shake of the blade could fling off the blood. But Li Aoz felt that wiping it with his sleeve was cleaner. Besides, costumes did not get dirty anyway.
There were not many swords imported from the Sky Ring. Even if ordinary mercenaries and Bounty Hunters got one, they likely would not keep using it. They would either sell it for cash or keep it as a collectible.
Li Aoz remembered that Frostplate did not have many famous cold weapons. Frostplate men were generally poorly educated, so they especially favored firearms and Prosthetic Modification, along with unarmed martial arts. These had practically no entry barrier; anyone could learn and use them.
The Sky