A heavy sword had a keen edge.
The third Murderous Weapon had been handed over with no need to agonize over the choice. It was unquestionably the heaviest weapon in the arsenal.
But even though it looked like it could crush someone to death, that didn't mean it was blunt.
On the contrary, its gleaming edge was icy and sharp. Paired with its unusually broad blade, it created an even more intimidating contrast, making people instinctively reluctant to touch it.
All in all, it embodied pure practicality: everything was geared toward efficient elimination.
A Fei's reaction suggested he'd convinced himself with similar reasoning.
He didn't even seem to mind that it would severely limit his "speed is unbeatable" style.
Or perhaps he thought it unlucky to keep using an old weapon that had accidentally injured an ally?
The exchange happened at the same time. Fu Qian took the rapier from A Fei, gave it a quick look, then hung it on an empty tentacle.
Its appearance had certainly taken a hit, but it was clearly nowhere near unusable.
In fact, the unusual color coating its surface made the whole thing look as if it had been dipped in poison.
Normally, for A Fei, who had just achieved Man-Sword Unity, this would undoubtedly be the weapon that felt most familiar.
"Which way?"
Unfortunately, the person in question had no intention of explaining himself.
Holding the astonishingly heavy greatsword, A Fei didn't even swing it around to get used to the weight. He simply asked what they would do next.
That divine-level strike, and the feat of killing an unbelievable opponent, hadn't stirred his emotions in the slightest.
Or rather, they hadn't made him any more "awake."
The traces of the star curse, the color seeping into his flesh, his burned limbs—there