In an instant, it was as though the whole world fell silent.
Huai Shi's lungs convulsed on instinct.
Before him, from that shriveled old shell brimming with mockery, ridicule, contempt, scorn, and every kind of malice, emanated waves of Death Sense that sent chills down Huai Shi's spine.
"Beheading? Decapitation?"
The old man carefully raised the long blade in his hand, as though tending to some hard-won treasure. His movements were gentle and meticulous, yet they made his opponent's hair stand on end, unable to suppress a shudder.
"If you wish to end an enemy, why go to such trouble?"
Kamiizumi murmured softly, "You need only... slay the soul!"
At that instant, the intact katana in his hand silently turned to powder, twisting, cracking, becoming unrecognizable before vanishing without a trace.
Yet what replaced it was a frigid light condensed from some manner of will and soul.
His eyes could not see it, his body could not touch or sense it, yet Huai Shi's soul clearly glimpsed that scene capable of overturning reality and illusion!
A blade of nothingness forged beneath the Sword Saint's will.
Though separated by dozens of meters, Huai Shi's vision went dark, as if an ordinary man were standing directly before a massive cannon, locked onto by a force capable of destroying everything.
Targeted by such a blade, he could not breathe at all—
Now, the old man holding the Soul Slayer Sword took one step forward, crossing that negligible distance. The blade of nothingness in his hand swept across Huai Shi like a breeze.
It brought a tangible chill, pain, the horrifying sensation of flesh being split by steel, and the despair of having one's life taken away.
His Stigmata, soul, power—everything seemed to abandon Huai Shi.
Like lambs awaiting slaughter.
His mind went blank.