The initially dim eyes now completely lost even the colors of the soul.
A small silver sword had appeared at his chest, at his heart.
That silver sword, of unknown name, was something he had accidentally obtained from a Demon Sect disciple named Qi Ren.
During two years of cultivation, he had never drawn this ominous, strange, nameless demon sword.
The last time this sword was drawn, it claimed the life of a Demon Sect expert.
But this time, it took away Baili An's life.
Crimson blood flowed along the sword tip, but it didn't drip down; instead, it eerily seeped into the sword body, as that silver sword greedily absorbed his essence blood.
As Baili An's pupils slowly expanded with the color of death, he slowly fell.
If he could, he wished for a period of peace, to ride on dreams as a horse, travel the road, indifferent to fame and glory, only seeking tranquility and ease...
