The killing karma committed by the Black Saber was heavy; with each person or evil ghost it slaughtered, its blade would grow sharper, and the murderous intent and death qi contained within it would grow denser.
Yet, it was this very blade, which even fierce ghosts avoided, that underwent a shocking transformation when it came into contact with Han Fei's fingertips.
From within the hilt, roars echoed throughout the blood night, making everyone's souls tremble.
The black blade halted atop Han Fei's finger, with the black mist resembling a fierce beast shackled in chains, mere millimeters away from biting through Han Fei's finger and heart yet utterly unable to continue downward.
Neither the blade-wielding F nor Han Fei, who was guarding his heart, had expected such a scene, and as they looked up, they could only see a white mask on each other's cheeks.
F had never encountered such a situation before, and he could feel the resistance from the saber in his hand!
