The stench of blood filled the ruins of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect.
The sect's once magnificent sanctuary, with its carved beams and painted halls, had been reduced to broken walls and mutilated corpses strewn across the ground.
Chen Xin lay in a pool of blood.
His white robes were soaked through with blood. His chest heaved violently, and every breath brought up copious bloody froth.
The Seven Kill Sword, renowned for possessing the greatest offensive power in the world, had shattered into countless pieces of scrap metal.
His martial soul was shattered.
His meridians were severed.
This supreme swordsman, whose might had shaken the continent, had lost his last means of resistance.
Qian Sha Yu walked over slowly.
He lowered the Slaughter Blood Sword in his hand.
Its crimson blade rested against Chen Xin's throat.
"Talk. Where did Ning Fengzhi and that old bag of bones flee?"
Qian Sha Yu looked down at him, his voice utterly flat.
Chen Xin struggled to breathe, his shriveled lips curling into a mocking smile.
"Spirit Hall's lapdog..."
He spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, his pride refusing to bow to humiliation.
"Even if I die, you won't get a single word out of me."
As the pillar supporting the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, he valued the sect more than his own life.
Trying to pry the sect master's whereabouts out of him was a fool's dream.
Rather than grow angry, Qian Sha Yu smiled.
He tilted his head slightly, sweeping his gaze over the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect disciples surrounded by Spirit Hall's soul masters.
Wails, sobs, and pleas for mercy mingled together, despair enveloping the ruins.
"You've got some backbone."
Qian Sha Yu's gaze returned to Chen Xin's face.
"Look over there. Those are all young members