Having said so much, Luo Ying was somewhat tired.

She slowly closed her eyes. The snow-bright Qianlong Sword still floated in front of her, its blade bright and thin as paper. A silver dragon could be seen swimming within the sword, and the flying sword would occasionally circle Luo Ying, as if guarding its master.

Su Zhuyi’s hoe was also floating in front of her, occasionally nodding and bowing. Comparing the two, she felt a bit sorry for herself.

Luo Ying was resting, and Su Zhuyi didn’t know what to do.

Speaking of which, although she had struggled on the edge of life and death many times, she had never felt so powerless.

She never gave up hope of survival, but this time, she truly didn’t know how to proceed. She carefully examined the small bubble several times over, and finally, her gaze fell on Luo Ying, who was sitting there resting.

Only Luo Ying could give her a thread of hope.

If Luo Ying threw her out at the moment when she sacrificed herself to the sword, when the evil sword was stunned and she was on the verge of death, then she would have a chance to survive. Apart from this, Su Zhuyi felt she couldn’t think of any other method.

As she stared at Luo Ying, she suddenly noticed that Luo Ying’s Qianlong Sword began to tremble lightly. Then Su Zhuyi suddenly stood up. She had been sitting against the table, and this movement directly hit the table corner, causing the voice from the stone paperweight on the table to sound again: “The Longquan Sword is a greatly inauspicious sword…”

“Shut up!” But it was a voice-preserving stone—it would make sound when vibrated and wouldn’t stop unless it stopped talking, repeating this sentence endlessly.

Outside the bubble, a pitch-black ink dragon had slowly swum over. Though called a dragon, it had no physical form.

It was entirely black. Though clearly in the ice-cold spring, its body burned with raging flames—the resentment of those who died for the sword, the vengeful thoughts of souls killed by the blade, condensed together to form this soul-devouring fire that consumed everything. It swam to the edge of the bubble and suddenly crashed into it.

Su Zhuyi discovered the bubble was knocked about violently, and the withered leaf on the table nearly fell to the ground. She saw a thin crack appear on the withered leaf and was immediately alarmed. Was the seal about to break?

If this seal broke, there would be no need to actively sacrifice to the sword. Once it escaped the seal, it would directly kill her, leaving not even a scrap of flesh. When this sword was completed back then, it had drunk the blood of a hundred thousand people.

Su Zhuyi still had several explosive talismans on her. With her current weak cultivation, she couldn’t think of any other method, so she simply threw out a talisman. But the talisman couldn’t even leave the bubble and just drifted lightly to the ground. Since it couldn’t hit the attack target, naturally, it wouldn’t explode.

At that moment, Luo Ying extended her right hand, slightly curved her five fingers in a grasping motion, and the Qianlong Sword flew into her hand. With a spin, she slashed out one strike, and an ice-snow swimming dragon charged out of the bubble, colliding with the ink dragon outside.

Su Zhuyi understood.

This place was within the Longquan Sword, so naturally, what needed to be compared was sword intent. Therefore, other attacks couldn’t take effect—they couldn’t even touch it. Only Luo Ying’s sword intent could harm that black dragon.

Sword intent took form. The two dragons bit each other ferociously. Before long, Luo Ying’s silver dragon devoured the ink dragon. But before they could catch their breath, Su Zhuyi discovered more and more ink dragons appearing around them. They weren’t dragons anymore—they were as densely packed as fish crossing a river.

“It seems we can’t delay any longer.” Luo Ying’s face was pale, and her lips had turned dark red. She finally frowned and turned to ask Su Zhuyi: “Do you still have Spirit Stones and pills?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” At this life-or-death moment, Su Zhuyi wouldn’t be stingy about those few Spirit Stones. She took out all the storage pouches she had scavenged from corpses, poured out all the Spirit Stones and pills inside in one go, and handed them to Luo Ying. Seeing that Luo Ying quickly crushed the Spirit Stones and swallowed the pills without much improvement, she also took out the remaining tree roots from her bag, plus those small stones that the spirit beasts had pelted her with, giving her lumps all over her head, then said: “That’s everything.”

Seeing those stones, Luo Ying said, “These can’t be used. These are Soul Stones. People killed by the Longquan Sword had their souls absorbed into the sword and baked into stones by the evil fire. Though they appear to have spiritual energy, if absorbed into the body, there’s a high chance of qi deviation. In the end, one would be influenced by this evil sword and walk to its presence to die as a sacrifice.”

Su Zhuyi prided herself on being well-informed, but she didn’t know these stones had such tricks. If she had used these stones, wouldn’t she have sought her death? That Liu Zhen from Feihong Sect had taken so many stones out—who knew how much trouble it would cause? But in her previous life, she had never seen such stones appear in the cultivation world, nor did they cause any waves. Could it be that Liu Zhen was killed by Qinghe not long after going out?

Now wasn’t the time to think about those things. Su Zhuyi said, “Senior, what should we do now?”

“In a moment, take the sword and stand in that position.” Luo Ying pointed to a corner of the bubble.

Su Zhuyi was completely confused, thinking: “Hold your Qianlong? The Qianlong Sword recognizes its master—if I try to take it, it would be strange if my arm wasn’t cut off!”

“I’ll recover slightly, then sacrifice myself to the sword. The moment my primordial spirit disappears, Qianlong will become a masterless sword. I’ll use my final sword intent at that moment. Whether you can get out depends on your fortune.”

Before Su Zhuyi could suggest it, Luo Ying had already said such words. This made her pause slightly, then silently stand in the position Luo Ying had indicated, next to the table, perfectly positioned to stare at the withered leaf on the table.

She stood quietly in place, her gaze fixed tightly on that leaf, feeling her heartbeat like beating drums. Life or death depended on the next moment, so that’s why she was so nervous.

Outside, those fire dragons eyed the bubble covetously and kept attacking it. More and more cracks appeared on the withered leaf, as if it would completely shatter into ash at any moment and scatter with the wind.

Su Zhuyi heard a painful, muffled groan. Such pained and suppressed sounds would never have stirred any waves in her heart before—she might even have felt pleased. When did it start? From when she was hanged in the sky, watching the villagers of Changning Village cry out in pain and anguish, she had developed special feelings about such suffering. Seeing others suffer, seeing those she hated in pain, would bring joy and comfort to her heart. But this time, her spine tensed, as if someone were poking at her backbone.

Su Zhuyi finally couldn’t help but secretly look back.

She saw that Luo Ying had already picked up that sword hilt and was practicing sword forms with it.

With each sword strike she made, another sword wound appeared on her body. Her robes, white as snow, were now dyed red with her blood. Her Qianlong Sword circled her but couldn’t approach, its blade trembling lightly and emitting one soft whistle after another.

The sword sounds grew lower and lower, as if weeping.

Fresh blood soaked through white clothes, her hair ornaments scattered, and her waterfall-like long hair dragged on the ground. Heavy ink and rich colors splashed on paper, rendering a magnificent painting within this small bubble.

This scene was beautiful.

More beautiful than anyone she had ever seen. Su Zhuyi had always been extremely confident and narcissistic, always believing her appearance was the most beautiful in the world. But at this moment, she felt inferior—not only because of appearance, but because of some other things, things she had never possessed.

At this moment, her eyes seemed to sting.

Su Zhuyi blinked and asked, “Qinghe had evil intentions, so you taught him. I have evil intentions, so you save me. Now you want to save all living beings under heaven. Luo Ying, have you ever thought about yourself?”

How could there be such a foolish person in this world?

Thinking of how she had asked blankly before, “How did he see through it?” Su Zhuyi slightly pursed her lips, thinking: “Heh, ridiculously foolish.”

Luo Ying continued practicing her sword forms. As her wounds multiplied and she bled more and more, blood meandering into rivers on the ground, that withered yellow leaf finally showed some green. But all the ink dragons outside the bubble became frenzied, constantly devouring nearby smaller dragons and growing larger and larger.

Su Zhuyi thought Luo Ying had no time to answer her, but unexpectedly, she suddenly looked up and said, “You became this kind of person because you encountered too many such people.”

Her hand holding the sword hilt trembled constantly, but she rarely smiled at Su Zhuyi. She probably rarely smiled before, or perhaps because she was in too much pain at the moment, that smile was very stiff—uglier than crying—completely destroying the blood-stained demonic beauty of this moment. “You’re still young. I’ll do my best…”

Another sword thrust, and she slipped and fell directly to the ground, but her voice still came: “To let… you… live.”

“Oh, then thank you.” Su Zhuyi suddenly turned around, closing her eyes and no longer looking.

But just then, there was a thud, as if something heavy had hit the ground. Immediately after, a voice said: “Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, so much blood, so much blood flowing, little sister, I’m so scared…”

Su Zhuyi felt her waist tighten. Looking down, she saw two arm bones firmly hugging her waist. There was even a green silk ribbon wrapped around its right wrist, which seemed to have some spiritual energy—she didn’t know where it got it from.

She turned her head and saw Little Skull wailing loudly. Because it had been calling for so long, its jawbone had fallen off again.

Su Zhuyi: “…”

Hadn’t this Little Skull disappeared? How was it back again?

“Let go!” If you hold me so tightly, what if Luo Ying’s silver dragon can’t send me out later?

“Oh, oh, little sister, that big sister is bleeding so much—is she going to die!” It timidly poked its head over, even moving its eye sockets as if it had just opened its eyes, then tightly grabbed Su Zhuyi’s hand and dragged her forward.

She was supposed to stay in that position, but going over there would lower her chances of successfully escaping! But Little Skull was very strong—when it wanted to drag Su Zhuyi along, she couldn’t stand firm at all.

She saw it grip Su Zhuyi tightly with one claw, crouch down to help Luo Ying, and say while helping: “Little sister, I’m afraid of blood, I’m dizzy…”

Luo Ying had fallen and couldn’t move for a while, but that sword hilt was still moving, trying to pull her up from the ground, causing Luo Ying additional injuries. Seeing this, Little Skull immediately reached out to grab the sword hilt and threw it aside.

Luo Ying: “…”

The sword sacrifice was interrupted.

Su Zhuyi: “…”

Something felt wrong. Little Skull, what did you just disrupt? Hmm?