In a mere ten seconds, Zhang Yang's Death Meridian Sword Core was blasted straight up to the Thirteenth Layer!
Huh? Why the Thirteenth Layer?
Zhang Yang had no idea, but at least he hadn't died. At that moment, the only thing he could do was watch as the Death Meridian Sword Core, domineering and peerless like a black dragon, occupied his reborn body. Then everything fell silent.
It was as if nothing had happened.
Yet what made Zhang Yang's scalp tingle even more—well, he didn't have a scalp at the moment—was that his seven lost spirit essences had returned at some point. They emerged bit by bit from that immortal sword and merged into his new body completely beyond his control.
He didn't even know what kind of hellish thing those seven spirit essences had formed.
But he had indeed been reborn once more, and he was utterly certain that this would be his final death, because the body he had after rebirth was simply too handsome.
"Is this damn well still me?"
Zhang Yang carefully observed the body that seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep with his Spirit Domain. In the end, he confirmed that it really was him. No one else could possibly be this handsome and dashing.
"Boom!"
Zhang Yang's entire soul transferred into the new body. He began to awaken, began to open his eyes, and began moving his hands and feet.
Even after he stood on the immortal sword with a handsome, graceful bearing, no old grandpa or old grandma appeared in his mind.
"Phew, looks like all of this was an accident. I, Zhang Yang, am destined for boundless fortune. Little cousin, oh, little cousin, you thought blood-sacrificing me would let you reach the peak of life? Wrong. I'll keep blood-sacrificing you."