Love, warmth, expectation, hope...these are things that could kill a beast at any time.
A beast cannot possess these things, so it never harbors hope.
Su Wenjun raised both hands, tightly gripping Su Ming'an's sword blade, resisting it from moving forward, blood flowing through his fingers.
Su Ming'an swung the sword forward mercilessly, piercing through Su Wenjun's resistance. Their ideological conflict was irreconcilable; only life and death could separate them.
Swoosh—swoosh—swoosh—
The sword blade pierced through flesh, making a sound that made one's teeth ache.
Like the sound of a solid piercing through liquid.
Like the sound of a hard object scraping across bone.
The moment the sword blade completely penetrated Su Wenjun, Su Ming'an seemed to see a flash of white light. In the white light, there was a child walking quietly in the wilderness, wearing tattered clothes and a worn wooden mask.
