The spring wind swept across the wasteland, and the drizzling spring rain gradually came to a halt.
An indelible chill surged into Hu Feilong's heart.
He gazed southward, feeling the unfamiliar Sword Qi within his body. At last, he could not hold back and spat out a mouthful of blood.
He could never have imagined that the youth from Jinling Ferry had buried over a hundred sword intents in the old man's meridians.
Only after the two of them had chatted at length in the military camp and even witnessed the scene at the Southern Border imperial palace did they suddenly erupt.
Acting on instinct, he used the spirit sword in his hand to support himself against the ground.
In disbelief, he said, "This isn't sword intent from the mortal world, nor is it demonic sorcery. This comes from the demons beneath the abyss..."
Gudu Mou suddenly jolted, his face filled with shock and unease.
Recalling his battle with Wang Xian, he muttered, "That's right. This isn't sword intent from the mortal world, and even less is it some kind of demonic sorcery. He actually learned the demonic path as well! Who taught him?"
"Pfft!"
Hu Feilong spat out another mouthful of blood. The one hundred and eight sword intents buried in his body emerged one after another...
In the blink of an eye, his life force vanished. His death was near.
Looking at the old man before him, he shouted unwillingly, "You and I have lived half our lives. Have you ever seen the Demon King's Sword while alive?"
The old man wore a bitter expression and muttered, "Precisely because I've never seen it, it is invincible."
"Thud!"
Like a golden mountain collapsing or a jade pillar falling, Hu Feilong collapsed backward as though a snowy mountain had crumbled.