In the briefest of moments, Deadman's Blade, who had already tasted death once, once again experienced the terror and suffocation of death tightening around his soul.
He was a swordsman, obsessed with the sword in life and in death.
Deadman's Blade took pride in his arrogance, proud that his swordsmanship had been invincible during his life, that he had single-handedly stormed the Hundred Blades Hall, battled six demons, and slain Ghost Blade. He was also proud that his death represented the ultimate pursuit of the way of the sword, that even the combined full might of the six great evil demons had only managed to wear him down, not break his technique.
But now, a single, simple slash had completely severed Deadman's Blade's pride.
It was executed without the enhancement of Qi Spirit, without any intricate swordplay, and indeed, it was just a refined steel replica of the Embroidered Spring Knife, and not one with Superior Spirit Qi.
