Li Huai's swordsmanship was the most extreme swordsmanship of the age—wounding others and wounding himself.
Su Xin had even tried to correct this kind of swordsmanship for Li Huai before, but Li Huai had never been able to change it. Nor did he need to, because this was his path.
Thus, in the later days, Su Xin could only teach Li Huai how to balance the powers of life, death, yin, and yang within his body. Though it could not eliminate the erosion brought by the power of death, it could at least lessen some of the backlash.
Of course, Li Huai did not care about any of this at all. What he pursued was not the pinnacle of swordsmanship, but the pinnacle of the road of death!
Li Huai was shrouded in that terrifying deathly aura. His Dharma Form was a Hell Pluto, yet at this moment, it seemed to have condensed within his body. He transformed into Pluto himself, and wherever he passed became a dead domain, an underworld wasteland!
When deathly aura reached its utmost extreme, it was no longer black, but grayish white—the color of ultimate death, the color of annihilation.
Where Li Huai's sword pointed, whether it was Buddhist light or demonic qi, all had to perish. Kumarajiva's emaciated body let out a roar, his eyes revealing a trace of unwillingness.
Facing the joint assault of the Xiao Family and Li Huai today, he had long prepared himself to be killed.
But the one thing he could not accept was dying without being able to drag even one enemy down with him.
Kumarajiva's right arm suddenly burst apart, yet no blood flowed out.
He actually seized his own right arm with his left and forcibly tore it off. There was not a trace of flesh