The Fall of the Blood Blade

Blood Blade Ancestor stared at the small, already-healed nick on Wang Xuan's palm, then swept a glance over the scattered corpses littering the ground. Suddenly, he grinned, a fierce, ruthless energy radiating from the expression. His yellowed teeth were fully exposed, and the cruelty in his eyes was so intense it felt as if they were dripping blood.

"Good! Very good!"

The voice squeezed from his throat was as raspy as a broken gong. He flicked his wrist sharply, and the curved blade in his hand began to vibrate on its own, emitting a faint, buzzing hum. "The more blood this Blood Blade of mine drinks, the sharper it becomes!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than the fresh blood flowing from the corpses on the ground seemed to be pulled by some unseen force, transforming into wisps of pale red mist that drifted toward the blade and were absorbed into it without a trace.

The Blood Blade let out a low moan. The crimson color of the blade deepened at a speed visible to the naked eye, eventually turning a near-dark red. The cold light shimmering on the edge was sharp enough to sting the eyes, and a thick, cloying scent of blood drilled into everyone's nostrils, causing those nearby to retch repeatedly.

"See that?" Blood Blade Ancestor shook the Blood Blade in his hand, his tone arrogant and triumphant. "This is the true power of the Blood Blade Scripture! Kid, to be able to force me to use this move, your death is worth it!"

Wang Xuan's eyes narrowed, his fingertips tightening slightly. This old devil's martial arts were truly sinister. Without turning his head, he spoke in a calm but firm tone that brooked no argument: "Ding Dian, move back."

Ding Dian didn't say a word. He retreated several steps, his back pressing tightly against the doorframe of the Death Prison, his expression as rigid as iron. He knew clearly that he could not intervene in the coming confrontation; getting too close would only be a hindrance.

The Martial Artists and Players who hadn't managed to escape had forgotten to run. They stood with wide eyes, staring fixedly at the center of the arena, the sound of their whispering buzzing like a swarm of insects.

"Holy crap, this blade can actually absorb blood? That's too evil!"

"At this rate, is the Skull-Crushing Hand going to lose?"

"This devil, Blood Blade Ancestor, he really kept his cards hidden deep..."

Blood Blade Ancestor ignored the chatter entirely. With the Blood Blade in hand, his aura surged violently. He kicked off the ground, his figure pouncing toward Wang Xuan once more like a ghost.

This time, his blade was faster, trickier, and more vicious. The blood-colored light wove into an airtight net, accompanied by piercing shrieks, aiming specifically for Wang Xuan's eyes, throat, and heart—the angles were so devious they didn't seem humanly possible.

Wang Xuan dared not be careless. He pushed his Water-Skipping Technique and Wild Goose Movement Technique to their limits, his body moving like a leaf in a gale, weaving through the gaps in the blade light. He no longer dared to block head-on; he could see clearly that after drinking blood, the sharpness of the Blood Blade had surpassed its previous state. Before, it had only cut skin, but if he blocked it now, he feared it would truly bite into his bones.

He controlled the power of his Great Monument-Breaking Hand with ease, using subtle force to precisely deflect the blade every time it neared his body. "Clang, clang!" The crisp sounds rang out one after another. The two figures crossed at high speed, internal energy radiating outward, sending sand and stones flying. Even the bluestone tiles beneath their feet cracked under the pressure.

Blood Blade Ancestor grew increasingly alarmed as they fought.

His Blood Blade Scripture relied on being "devious, fast, and ruthless." Usually, an expert would be flustered and reveal a flaw within three or five moves, but this kid before him was as slippery as an eel, and his hands were absurdly hard—even a glancing touch against the side of the blade was enough to make his arm go numb.

What made him even more wary was that after nearly twenty rounds, Wang Xuan's breathing hadn't faltered in the slightest; he was as steady as a mountain.

Damn it, what kind of turtle-shell technique is this kid practicing? Blood Blade Ancestor cursed inwardly. His blade work became increasingly frantic and vicious, every move a desperate gamble, yet he couldn't even touch a corner of Wang Xuan's clothes.

Wang Xuan appeared composed, but he was actually struggling. The cold, sinister internal energy of the Blood Blade Ancestor scraped against him with the wind of the blade, stinging like small knives cutting into his flesh. Furthermore, this old monk was a seasoned veteran of the underworld, his strikes never straying from vital points. Wang Xuan had to remain fully focused, his mind stretched tight like a fully drawn bowstring.

A long defense will eventually lead to a mistake!

Wang Xuan understood this principle better than anyone.

As another blade strike descended, Wang Xuan dodged to the side, but his foot "accidentally" stepped on a blood-stained stone. His footing slipped slightly, causing a momentary delay. The flaw was so small it was almost invisible, but to a top-tier expert like Blood Blade Ancestor, it was as bright as a lamp lit in the dark.

"A perfect chance!"

A fierce light flared in Blood Blade Ancestor's eyes. Without a second thought, he poured all his internal energy into the blade. The Blood Blade transformed into a shrill, blood-colored lightning bolt, stabbing straight at Wang Xuan's chest. It was the killing move of the Blood Blade Scripture: "Blood Splatter Five Steps," so fast that there was no time to react.

Wang Xuan was "too late" to dodge completely and could only manage to turn his body slightly.

Puchi--

The dark red Blood Blade pierced deeply into Wang Xuan's left chest. The sensation of the blade tip breaking through flesh and muscle was clear, yet it continued with unstoppable force until a soft "click" sounded—it had been caught by the bone in his ribcage and finally came to a halt.

"I got him!"

Blood Blade Ancestor was ecstatic, a savage grin spreading across his face. "No matter how hard your external training is, your internal organs can't withstand a blade!"

But the smile had barely formed before it froze on his face.

Wang Xuan's hand had clamped onto his wrist like an iron vice, the force so great it threatened to crush his bones.

Wang Xuan slowly raised his head. His face had turned pale from the intense pain, and fine beads of cold sweat seeped from his forehead, but his eyes were terrifyingly calm, even carrying a trace of icy mockery: "I've got you."

Blood Blade Ancestor's heart skipped a beat, and a chill shot from the soles of his feet straight to his crown!

He tried to pull the blade back, but his wrist was locked tight, unable to move even an inch.

Wang Xuan gave him no chance to breathe. His right palm was already fully charged with power. The strength of the [Lesser Vajra Indestructible Body], the "Indestructible" property of the Great Monument-Breaking Hand, and his thick Post-Heaven Eighth Layer internal energy all erupted at once!

His right palm glowed with a rich, yellow-jade luster, carrying the terrifying momentum of a monument-shattering strike, and slammed solidly into the top of Blood Blade Ancestor's bald head.

SMACK!!!

A muffled sound exploded. It didn't sound like a strike against a human head, but rather like a ripe watermelon being smashed. The savage grin on Blood Blade Ancestor's face solidified, his eyes bulging wide, filled with incredulous terror.

Wang Xuan released his grip. Blood Blade Ancestor's corpse swayed, then fell straight backward, hitting the ground with a heavy "thud." His right hand was still loosely gripping the air, falling heavily to the ground with the momentum.

The scene fell into a deathly silence, leaving only the sound of the wind whistling and Wang Xuan's slightly heavy breathing.

He looked down at the Blood Blade embedded in his chest, then glanced at the corpse on the ground, slowly exhaling a breath of air tainted with the smell of blood: "Not bad strength, truly troublesome."

Only then did Ding Dian snap out of his shock. He hurried forward two steps, looking at the blade in Wang Xuan's chest, his voice tight: "Brother Wang, you..."

"I won't die."

Wang Xuan interrupted him cleanly. Although his voice was a bit raspy, it carried absolute confidence. "The blade is stuck in the bone; it didn't hit any vital organs."

Despite his words, his pale complexion and the cold sweat on his forehead didn't lie—the injury was definitely not light.

The dark red Blood Blade remained stuck in his chest, looking savage and eye-catching, enough to make one's scalp tingle.

Wang Xuan reached out, gripped the exposed hilt tightly, his brows furrowed, and with a grit of his teeth, he pulled with a sudden, violent force.

The Blood Blade was ripped out, trailing a stream of hot blood. Wang Xuan's body swayed slightly, and he immediately circulated his internal energy to drive the Iron Cloth Shirt. The flesh and blood on his chest twitched slightly, and the wound closed at a speed visible to the naked eye, even the bleeding gradually coming to a halt.