Blood Sun Sword Intent

Jiang Ding silently watched the maids slaughter and flee, without making a move.

A Nascent Soul True Lord who could still act under Celestial Lord Shuo Yang's karma arts, slaughtering in all directions without being affected?

That would lead many to draw unpleasant conclusions.

Great Sun Sword Heirs had appeared in this world before. The first wave of unequal informational advantage had already been lost. High-level cultivators were all old monsters refined by age; one could not hope they would overlook such things, nor rely on luck.

Once exposed,

whether Jiang Ding would die was uncertain. After all, he had some experience in concealment, along with a way out.

But these maids would likely all die. Having drawn the hostility of enemies beyond their level, no amount of proficiency in military formations would be of use.

In the future, they could avenge them and kill their enemies, ensuring they had not died in vain—but that was all.

The dead were dead.

Everything could only depend on themselves.

Great Sun Sword Sect, a desolate grassland.

Jiang Ding sat cross-legged within a third-rank high-grade concealment formation, his spiritual power and divine sense continuously pouring into the Blazing Sun Copper in his hands.

At times, he was ecstatically joyful; at others, his brows were tightly furrowed. Sometimes he screamed madly like a rabid dog, drawing his sword to carve wound after wound across his own body. Blood flowed all over the ground, a savage and terrifying sight.

From the Blazing Sun Copper, threads of nearly imperceptible black-gray qi invaded his sea of consciousness, seeping into every part of his soul, spurring some kind of transformation.

This was already the third year.

At first, everything had been normal. From time to time, he gained insights into the sword, and clear sword chimes rang