Crossing the Cultivation Realm: Two Souls Coexist

The eternal darkness was like thick ink, and Yan Bing felt as if he were struggling in a viscous abyss.

Every breath he took pulled at the gaping wound on his chest, the burning pain a constant reminder of his passing.

The tattered sleeves hung down like tattered cotton, and the bare arms were covered with fine bloodstains.

He gripped the jade sword tightly in his hand; the warm luster of the blade appeared exceptionally faint in the darkness.

The moment the lightning that had illuminated the sky went out, a deadly crisis had already arrived.

Raven's figure blended completely into the darkness, with only the sound of his heavy greatsword cutting through the air revealing his location.

Before the sword even arrived, the chilling killing intent already stung Yan Bing's skin.

Yan Bing closed his eyes tightly, focusing all his attention on his ears.

Just as the sword was about to strike, he suddenly turned to the side, his jade sword slashing upwards with precision.

"clang!"

The jade sword clashed with the heavy greatsword, sparking a string of tiny sparks.

Yan Bing's tiger's mouth trembled violently, and his already injured right arm felt a sudden soreness and numbness.

He used the force to dodge to the side, the greatsword grazing his shoulder and crashing down, leaving a deep trench in the ground.

But this is just the beginning.

Just as Yan Bing's old strength was exhausted and new strength had not yet been generated, Ya's right hand reached for his waist like a venomous snake, and the black dagger reappeared, stabbing straight at Yan Bing's heart!

This attack came too quickly and too deliberately.

Yan Bing had no time to parry with his sword; he could only instinctively channel his spiritual power into his left palm and meet the deadly dagger with his bare hands.

"Pfft-"

The dagger pierced his palm without any resistance, and excruciating pain instantly swept through his body.

Yan Bing let out a muffled groan, and fine beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead.

He gritted his teeth, and with a swift upward thrust of his jade sword, forced the crow to take a step back.

Yan Bing staggered backward, plunging the jade sword into the ground to support his swaying body.

His left hand hung limply at his side, and the flesh around the bloody hole in his palm was turning black and rotting at a visible speed.

The deadly poison coated on the dagger was corroding his body.

He had to circulate his spiritual power to forcibly seal the meridians in his left arm.

This means that the hand will be completely useless in the upcoming battle.

Just then, another bolt of lightning ripped through the sky.

Under the blinding white light, the crow's silhouette was clearly visible.

His black soft armor remained pristine, with only a few faint white marks marking the battle that had just taken place.

He slowly raised his hand, took out a piece of black cloth, and meticulously wiped the bloodstains off the dagger.

“You are a respectable opponent,” Raven’s voice was eerily calm, “but because we are on different sides, you can only die.”

Yan Bing coughed up a mouthful of blood, which stained his gray beard red.

"Stop talking nonsense," he gasped. "If it weren't for this lousy place, you wouldn't even be standing here talking to me."

He straightened up with difficulty, his gaze sweeping across the suffocating darkness, a hint of self-mockery in his voice:

"After all, I'm getting old, I'm getting too old."

Raven continued to wipe the dagger, its blade gleaming coldly in the occasional flashes of lightning.

“Yes,” he echoed, his tone as flat as if discussing the weather, “At your age, in our race, you should be walking to your own grave.”

“What a cold-blooded race!” Yan Bing gave a bitter smile, a hint of reminiscence flashing in his eyes. “But you’re right, it’s indeed time for them to go to their graves.”

Actually, I should have died when Mengfeng disbanded, but unfortunately, that junior brother wanted to die in a more meaningful way.

The crow slowly approached, its dagger gleaming from being polished.

"No need to say so much, I don't want to hear it," he said indifferently. "Let me send you away."

Just as Ya was about to launch his final attack, Yan Bing suddenly raised his head, a strange smile appearing on his face.

"Then let's do it. You don't even want to listen to an old man like me anymore," his voice suddenly became clear and calm. "Do you know what I'm called?"

The crow paused slightly, instinctively sensing something was amiss.

He subtly adjusted his grip on the sword and casually asked, "Oh? What's your name?"

Yan Bing grinned, a smile that carried a hint of pride and a touch of relief:

"Little Sword God..."

Before he finished speaking, a sudden change occurred!

A burst of intense white light suddenly erupted from Yan Bing's chest, illuminating the entire dark space.

That was not the light of lightning, but a sword aura condensed to its extreme, containing Yan Bing's lifelong cultivation, all his life force, and the proud sword heart belonging to the "Little Sword God".

The moment the sword energy appeared, the entire space trembled.

A sudden gust of wind arose, causing Yan Bing's tattered robes to flutter loudly.

His eyes, which had been clouded by pain, were now shining brightly, as if he had returned to his childhood, to the moment he first held a sword.

This sword energy was faster than usual; wherever it passed, even the darkness was dispelled, leaving behind a dazzling trail of light.

Raven's pupils contracted sharply. He tried to dodge, but found his body locked by an invisible sword intent.

He could only watch helplessly as the radiance, which gathered the entire life force of a sword god, flew towards him like a shooting star.

At this moment, time seemed to freeze.

Yan Bing's figure appeared exceptionally upright under the reflection of the sword energy, as if he had returned to the era when he was known as the "Little Sword God".

The relieved smile still lingered on his lips, but his eyes still flashed with the last glint of a swordsman's sharpness.

"This sword... is for humanity..."

His whispers were barely audible amidst the whistling of the sword energy, but the sword light that pierced through heaven and earth seemed to be telling the story of a sword god's final persistence.

The darkness was completely dispelled, and the entire space was illuminated by this decisive sword strike, as if it were daytime.