Tianshu Tower's Plan

Within Tianshu Tower, a red-faced old man lifted Jia Chenglie's hand, then looked at the little finger that had been retrieved. He sighed. "It can't be saved."

Though he sighed, his voice was booming, carrying an undertone that brooked no doubt.

Upon hearing this, the last trace of color drained from Jia Chenglie's already deathly pale face. His mouth opened, his cracked lips trembling, yet not a single word came out. Beside him, a Nascent Soul Late Stage cultivator clasped his hands. "Elder Qi, this junior has only this one son..."

This middle-aged scholar-looking Nascent Soul Cultivator was Jia Chenglie's father, Jia Lianwu, one of Tianshu Tower's stewards.

"You came too late." Qi Lao shook his head and raised the little finger. "This finger still seems to retain its shape, but the vitality in every inch of flesh and blood within it has been utterly extinguished. It is already a piece of dead flesh. Even if it were reattached, it could no longer serve as part of a human body."

"How... how could this be?" Jia Lianwu stood stunned. "He merely said he wanted to use his own efforts to grind away the Sword Intent lingering in his palm, and temper his Martial Dao True Meaning while he was at it. How did it become like this..."

A crimson spiritual glow lit up at Qi Lao's fingertip, and he gently touched Jia Chenglie's severed palm with it. The moment that crimson glow brushed against the lingering Sword Intent, there came a soft pop, and it immediately went out. Jia Chenglie's entire body shuddered, nearly fainting from the pain.

"What formidable Sword Intent. This is a terrifying power forged only by slaughtering tens of thousands of living beings. That Luo Chen Sword Palace disciple called Lian Xinjie said Xia Li had