The resentment of that Abyss Great Lord condensed into a face upon his blade. For a long time, that face struggled, howled, and raged. But as time passed, its struggles weakened, its howls softened, and its fury faded.
It changed from savage to calm.
It had not "accepted" its fate, but had "grown used to" its existence.
Like a man living in prison: at first, he would slam into the walls, shout, and try to escape.
But ten years later, he no longer slammed into the walls, no longer shouted, no longer tried to escape.
He sat in his cell, looking out the window, waiting in peace.
The second was himself.
The manifestation of the Dao of Slaughter.
The outline of that face was very clear.
Its features were identical to Blood Butcher's, but its expression was different.
Blood Butcher's expression was "expressionless." That face's expression was "slaughter."
Not "anger," not "cruelty," not "madness."
But slaughter itself.
Just as a flame's expression was not "anger"—a flame was simply a flame.
The outline of the third face was very blurry.
It had eyes, a nose, and a mouth, but its features could not be made out.
Like a photograph soaked in water. Who was the person in the picture? You knew it was a person, but you did not know who.
Blood Butcher knew.
It was the first mid-tier Abyss Great Lord he had slain in the Abyss Sea.
That Abyss Great Lord was twenty thousand zhang tall, covered in dark-red scales embossed with human faces.
Blood Butcher fought it for seven days and seven nights. In the end, he carved a wound across its chest, from shoulder to waist.
The wound was so deep that the dark-red crystal inside could be seen.
Dao Fruit.
His long blade pierced the Dao