Once everything was prepared, Zhao Fu carefully entered the depths of the Killing Sword World. Thick blood qi filled the surroundings, limiting visibility to only three or four meters. The place was deathly silent, yet even more terrifying than outside, permeated by pure killing intent.
Clang, clang, clang...
Rings of sword cries sounded out. More than a dozen figures emerged from the blood mist, all half-transparent. Their other features were blurred and indistinct, but their blood-red eyes stood out sharply. Each held a blackish-blood-colored sword.
Golden Dragon spoke, "These are sword souls born after sword wielders fell into madness. Zhao Fu, be careful."
Zhao Fu nodded. The dozen or so sword souls turned their blood-red eyes toward him and, in that instant, lunged at him. They were incredibly fast, as though they would appear before him the very next second. Their swords slashed out together, sending arcs of crescent-shaped bloody sword light flying.
At that moment, Zhao Fu tightly gripped the excitedly trembling Zhanlu Sword and swung it. A huge bloody crescent arc, carrying an incomparably sharp aura, cleaved through the air.
Boom!
The bloody crescent swept past and vanished into the blood mist, as though space itself had been cleaved apart. The sword lights unleashed by the sword souls, along with their bodies, were all cut in half at the waist.
The sword souls' bodies began to blur before disappearing completely, leaving behind only phantom swords floating in midair. These sword phantoms were much like ordinary swords, except they were incorporeal and each had a different appearance, as though every one possessed its own individuality.
Zhao Fu was somewhat astonished. The Zhanlu Sword had become so powerful; as it absorbed vast amounts of frenzied killing intent, the sword itself was growing several times faster.
Just as he was about