Hum!
The Intent of the Sword kept humming. Johnnie grew paler and paler, but he still forced himself to control the Seven Sword, attacking Poison Venerable of the Five Greats and Blade King again and again.
The two of them were terrified. Every time the flying swords fell, they felt death closing in, as if the next second would be their last.
That feeling—death at any moment—was shredding their nerves.
"Human, how about letting me go? I can give you a National Founding Decree," Blade King said, truly scared now, trying to bargain.
"I can give you an artifact," Poison Venerable of the Five Greats added quickly.
Cough!
Johnnie couldn't help spitting out blood again. He swayed on his feet.
"Master!" Maiev hurried to support him, worry written on her face.
Seeing this, Blade King and Poison Venerable's eyes lit up.
Johnnie was even worse off than they thought. If they could recover a bit more power, they might even kill him.
