The Sword Child Born Bearing the Great Sun Sword Pavilion's Hundreds of Thousands of Years of Fortune

The lives of powerful figures and geniuses

were, to sword cultivators, supreme opportunities!

"Too crazy..."

"It almost made me want to grab any powerful figure I saw and kill them, regardless of whether they were friend or foe, regardless of the situation—just keep killing, keep killing..."

A trace of deep crimson appeared in Jiang Ding's eyes.

This was not the influence of sword refinement. It was simply intense greed spilling outward, plain for anyone to see.

"No, don't."

"You'll die."

Jiang Ding took a deep breath and examined his own heart, little by little clearing the greed that had suddenly erupted from his spirit soul. "No matter how much sword cultivators crave the strong, no matter how greatly their sword intent advances, this madness, this sinking into slaughter, is not a good thing. It is clearly abnormal."

"Cultivators must have some convictions in their hearts if they wish to walk steadily and far."

"Relying entirely on slaughter will, sooner or later, lead to falling into madness, hitting a bottleneck, self-destruction, or utter stagnation."

Sword cultivators, this human profession born from the Race Battlefield, took a perilous path off the beaten track, far too frenzied and dangerous.

Once there were no external enemies, pure Sword Dao Sects and Sword Dao Cultivators would explode and split apart on their own. If they had no opponents, they would create opponents for themselves. That was not a normal path.

Jiang Ding reflected upon himself for a long while before opening his eyes.

After roughly calculating the time, only a few breaths had passed. The war had only just entered its next phase, nowhere near the earth-shattering changes that had occurred within his Sea of Consciousness.

He swept his gaze across the battlefield.

Twenty-four Space-Air Army Group fleets guarded his side, while the rest were