The Dog

Qiong Ying was covered in blood and gore. It was impossible to tell how much was blood and how much was rotting flesh. Thick, foul-smelling clumps dripped off her body.

Some of the larger chunks of flesh still twitched and spasmed, trying to reassemble themselves. But at most, they could stick together into a fist-sized lump before bursting with a splat and spilling another gush of blood and rot. This filthy, revolting scene was a far cry from the elegant sword duels between chivalrous, immortal cultivators in the novels.

And her first experience of reaching a state of perfect clarity in the sword heart and striking down a demon with her sword in a life-or-death situation had been so overwhelming that, for a time, all kinds of memories, scenes from novels, and sword manuals flashed through her mind like a revolving lantern. She even forgot to breathe, staring fixedly at the two bizarre figures before her with a pair of tiger eyes gleaming white.

The blind man and the fat man were also momentarily cowed by her presence, and froze in place.

The three stood off against one another for a moment. In the end, the fat man lost his patience first. He swept his robe around, gathering the corpses and bloodied bones on the ground into his sleeve, while muttering under his breath.

"That doesn't make sense. Is the Blood God Child Great Law that easy to break? Even if it was only half-finished, it shouldn't be this useless. One move and it's done? Blindy, did you see that clearly?"

The blind man was silent for a moment.

"She has another method. She took that bastard's soul into her shadow."

"His shadow?"

The fat man looked down at the blood and gore on the ground. "So what now? Do