Hiss!
Blood flowers burst open from the chest of a noodle-person, a Black Sword piercing through from the back, violently pulled out.
Lin Xin switched his grip and sheathed his sword, his figure flickering through the crowd like lightning. Every strike resulted in an explosion of blood.
This was a small village town, home to hundreds of noodle-people, most of whom were bandits and their families.
At this moment, these bandits were fearlessly charging at him with weapons in hand.
Twisted noodle-people fell into pools of blood one after another.
Lin Xin increasingly felt streams of Innate Qi surging into his body, blood-scented and addictive as if drugs, irresistible.
He had tried cultivating on his own, but honest cultivation showed no hope of improvement.
The method of the Blood Pill had already overdrawn his physical potential.
Only the most primal plundering, seizing the potential of other lives, could allow him to advance further.
