After his head was severed from his body, Xuan Kongzi rapidly shriveled. Wisps of blood mist streamed from beneath his dry, wrinkled flesh and poured into the blood blade in Hun Changqing's hand.
With Xuan Kongzi's blood essence and cultivation added to it, the blood blade's scarlet radiance grew stronger still. Its bloodthirsty savagery intensified, as though it had gained sentience, and it faintly threatened to erupt again, leaving Hun Changqing feeling needles against his back.
Watching the restless blood blade in his hand, Hun Changqing's eyes flashed coldly. He opened his mouth wide, spewing silver-gray mist that enveloped the blade. Strange sounds like an infant's cries rose from within the mist. In an instant, the trembling blade was suppressed, its bloody light withdrawn.
Once the blood blade settled down, Hun Changqing snorted coldly and opened his palm. The crimson symbol appeared again, emanating a summoning force. He lightly swung the arm holding the blade, and the vicious weapon immediately transformed into a wisp of ethereal, flowing blood mist that slowly drifted into the crimson symbol.
With the blood blade put away, the crimson symbol in Hun Changqing's hand twisted and condensed back into a lump of blood essence. He parted his lips, and it flew into his mouth. Then he cast an indifferent sidelong glance at Xuan Kongzi's severed head, which floated in the void with furious eyes wide open, unable to close even in death. A shadowy gleam flickered in his eyes as he reached out, seized its disheveled white hair, and lifted the head before him.
Studying Xuan Kongzi's head in his hand, Hun Changqing felt a jumble of emotions. The image of a woman with an eerie yet beautiful face surfaced in his mind, along with that of a burly, gloomy middle-aged man whose hawklike eyes