Black Bone Demon Abyss.
At the foot of the desolate mountain where Demon Blade Gu Cen lived in seclusion.
Ling Tian stood proudly alone with his blade, drenched in blood from head to toe.
Not far beside him stood Lu Feng with his sword, likewise covered in blood.
Dozens of corpses lay scattered all around them, none intact. Severed arms and legs littered the ground, blood still spurting from some of the wounds, as though this were purgatory.
The earth beneath their feet was cracked everywhere, savage blade marks and sword scars lingering across it.
On the distant slopes, many figures could vaguely be seen gathering, yet they only dared watch from afar. Not one person dared step forward to deal with Ling Tian in order to curry favor with Demon Blade Gu Cen.
After helping settle the enemies who had surrounded and killed Ling Tian, Lu Feng was just about to approach him.
But Ling Tian suddenly raised his hand and pointed his blade at him.
"You are not him!"
His voice carried a chilling, razor-sharp killing intent.
Lu Feng froze. This truly caught him by surprise. Keeping his sword planted where he stood, he asked curiously, "Old Ling, your perception is something else. How did you figure it out?"
The voice had been produced through spiritual energy resonance, no different from ordinary speech.
Ling Tian frowned at his words, a trace of uncertainty rising within him.
That familiar form of address, that identical tone and manner of speaking—it was all simply too alike.
Yet after steadying his mind and focusing his senses, he still remained resolutely vigilant. "You imitated him very well. You even cooperated with me flawlessly in executing a joint technique just now. But there is one thing in which you fall far short of him—something