In the blink of an eye, he seemed to be surrounded by countless swordsmiths. Though they were all afterimages, they were completely different from the others...
Not only were they exquisitely skilled, their craft honed to perfection—more importantly, they lacked the common weakness shared by the other afterimages!
Likewise, they cared nothing for their own survival.
Once these sudden attackers struck, they employed techniques Ji Jue had never seen before to unleash the Nine Forms Swords in their hands. The rank of their blades surged abruptly, and their threat multiplied.
To gain greater power, they did not hesitate to burn away everything they had. Even if they could only cause Ji Jue a negligible inconvenience, they could create an opportunity for the other attackers to succeed.
Right before Ji Jue, an unremarkable Pan Ying burst forth with bloody light, savage and violent, choosing its prey to devour. The sword master who had sacrificed himself was already unrecognizable, utterly distorted. Even after Ji Jue tore out his heart, even as Black Flame swallowed him whole, he still refused to fall, clinging on without end.
Only when the blade in his hand completely collapsed did he vanish into ashes along with it!
All he had poured into it bought only an instant of delay from Ji Jue, yet even more afterimages rushed forward one after another, launching their siege without regard for life or death.
They were all swordsmiths!
No, they should all have been called tools...
The true focus was never the swordsmiths, but the Nine Forms in their hands!
The life and death of those afterimages did not matter at all. What mattered was that everything they possessed had long since been offered to the weapons in their hands, including their lives and souls.
They spent a lifetime of research