When the core sword came down, there was no sound of wind.
A sword of the Reincarnation Realm transcended the very concept of speed.
In the distance from the sword edge in midair to Lu Chen's head, time was stretched into an extremely fine, extremely long thread.
He could see the blade pressing down inch by inch. He could see the core fragments floating along the sword body, slowly revolving in dark red light. He could see the black luminous fluid pouring from the hole in the Third Councilor's chest, falling drop by drop.
He could see it, but he could not dodge.
It was not his body that had been locked down. It was space.
Along the trajectory of the descending core sword, the air, dust, and mist of black liquid—all of it had frozen solid. What the blade cut through was not merely space, but the sum of every possibility within it.
Dodge left, and the sword would appear on the left. Dodge right, and the sword would appear on the right. Retreat backward, and the sword would split his face. Stand still, and it would cleave open the crown of his skull.
A sword of the Reincarnation Realm gave no choices.
Lu Chen's tail reacted before his consciousness did.
All three sections of his tailbone burst apart under the pressure of the descending blade. Every scale stood on end. The tip of his tail curled into a hook, snagged the belt at his lower back, and dragged his entire body three inches backward.
He had not pulled himself back. His tail had judged where the sword would land and retreated half a step for him before he could make the decision himself.
Half a step. The blade cleaved past the tip of his nose. Sword Qi sliced