The Blood-Sacrificing Demon Blade had become the Blood God Sect's signature weapon for a reason. Even centuries after the sect vanished, its name could still make veterans of the Martial World turn pale. It had the power to earn that reputation.
Back then, Blood God Sect experts wielding the Blood-Sacrificing Demon Blade could clash head-on with the elite forces of both the Great Xia Dynasty and the Northern Desert Royal Court—even battle-hardened armies led by True Person Grandmasters. More than a few True Person Grandmasters had died beneath its edge.
The reason it had performed so poorly just now was that its wielder had held it back.
To unleash the Blood-Sacrificing Demon Blade's full power, its wielder needed to be an unorthodox expert trained in the Blood God Sect's arts. Failing that, he at least had to trust the blade spirit wholeheartedly and be willing to fight in complete accord with it.
But the middle-aged man did not trust the blade spirit at all. He had guarded against it constantly, pitting his will against its own. He feared it would control him, believing that to be controlled was to be devoured—to die.
He had known his chances of surviving this attempt at revenge were slim. Yet after he took up the Demon Blade and swept all before him, he could not help thinking, I can win.
And once he felt that way, he was even less willing to die.
So all along, he and the Demon Blade's spirit had been wearing each other down.
But now things were different!
After Pan Long defeated him with a single punch, the middle-aged man lost control and cursed wildly, enraging the blade spirit beyond measure. It went berserk, smashed through what little willpower he had, and seized control of him.
Now the man