Spiritual Clash

"You!"

The Wandering Swordsman cried out in shock.

He had been a dying man to begin with. To put it bluntly, bleeding to death and being pierced through the heart by the Demon Blade made no difference.

Yet Shen Yi had chosen to stop the Demon Blade.

More than gratitude for being allowed to live a little longer, the Wandering Swordsman felt confusion—and terror.

If Shen Yi had been possessed by the Demon Blade, then all of Taian Town would likely be slaughtered into mountains of corpses and seas of blood, with blood flowing like rivers!

The youth was so solemnly grave about it,

that Gu Yiran and Song Wen both narrowed their eyes at Shen Yi. A' Yue even wanted to rush to Shen Yi's side to check on him, only to be forced back by a fierce Blade Intent that suddenly rose up.

That Blade Intent circled Shen Yi's body, then transformed into a wisp of blade aura and drilled straight into Shen Yi's brow.

Shen Yi's body immediately stiffened.

Within the spiritual platform and sea of consciousness,

a flash of crimson blade light suddenly appeared, transforming into a dark-red blood shadow. Shen Yi shaped his consciousness into form, condensing an illusory figure in green robes.

Shen Yi was surprised and muttered,

"What exactly are you?"

It was different from the Demon Blade spirit he had imagined.

Though the blood shadow was shrouded in hazy bloody light, it was clearly still humanoid, and it did not instinctively follow some primal urge.

It possessed a certain degree of independent awareness.

The blood shadow hesitated for a moment,

then a thought was transmitted, stiff and broken:

"I am now the spirit of the Demon Blade."

Shen Yi raised a brow, noticing the blind spot in those words.

"What were you