Blood slid down the tip of the blade, its path continuous and unbroken, resembling red agates rolling over lambskin.
Red.
It was a vibrant and vivid hue, starkly contrasting with the cold, merciless gray of the blade—this opposition of red and white shimmered together, generating an instant visual impact, like a fist striking the eye, causing pain and a stinging sensation, yet impossible to ignore.
Hiss——
Li Aozi slowly pulled the long sword from the skull of the eleventh Ersha Armament girl, the cold blade emerging bathed from the warm blood, having drunk its fill yet emitting a fine, low whimper.
Gugugeaaaa...
The sword's cry, bizarre as a monstrous bird and evil ghost, resonated through the bones of his palm, penetrating his brain, yearning towards Li Aozi.
"Want more..."
Click.
Li Aozi flipped his wrist, bent his left arm, and wedged the back of the blade into the crook of his elbow, slowly pulling the long sword, lightly wiping the blood off the blade with his sleeve.
