Li Mu Yang was struck through the chest by a sword again.
This time, even though Cloud Robe had blocked most of the Sword Qi for him, his body was still grievously wounded.
Cloud Robe had been sliced open by a huge gash. The two pieces of fabric, thin as silkworm wings, drooped there limply. Blood stained the white silk, making it dazzlingly bright.
The flesh of his chest had been peeled open, revealing the ghastly white bones broken into two. If the Sword Qi had gone just a little deeper, Li Mu Yang's body would have been cut in half.
Ximen Zhuoqing was far more terrifying than any swordsman Li Mu Yang had encountered before.
He had severed his emotions and desires, refusing to enter the mortal world. He had even forgotten the Sword God Family's sword techniques, yet because of that, he had comprehended the true way of the sword.
That peerless Nameless Sword.
In Li Mu Yang's eyes—or rather, even through the choosy gaze of that black dragon—Ximen Zhuoqing was the man who had come closest to Sword Ancestor Ximen Chuixue.
He was a powerhouse who had approached the demigod realm!
Someone like him should originally have been one of the few great powers in the Starry Sky, yet he had remained unknown and willingly lived as another's slave. It was truly baffling.
Cloud Robe seemed to know pain as well. This time, its recovery was extremely slow, and it looked to be struggling terribly.
Li Mu Yang was connected to it heart and soul, and knew that she was working hard to mend herself. But this sword had truly been too deep and too heavy—even the Immortal's Robe could hardly withstand it completely.
Besides, Cloud Robe had taken that sword head-on. That alone had already filled