263: Chapter 263 If ​​one hears the Way in the morning, one can die content in the evening.

Chu Sheng did not hesitate.

The zhu xian sword left its sheath, and the dark golden Sword Qi swept out like a ribbon, cutting the Devil King at the very front in two.

The Devil King did not even have time to scream before his body split down the middle, and black blood splattered everywhere.

It directly turned into a pool of pus and blood.

Then, the Devil King's figure slowly pieced itself together from the pus and blood, but his aura dropped drastically, and he turned and ran.

Blood God Sect secret technique!

The two Devil Kings behind suddenly stopped in their tracks, their expressions changing drastically.

They recognized Chu Sheng—an Elder of the Wendao Palace who had killed countless experts of the Demon Race during the Righteous-Demonic War.

"Retreat!" One of the Devil Kings turned and ran, his speed as fast as a rabbit with its tail stepped on.

The other Devil King was half a step slower and had half his head sliced off by Chu Sheng with a single sword strike.

The remaining Demon Generals fled, scrambling and rolling, and no one dared to look back.

Chu Sheng sheathed his sword and turned to look at Ling Wushuang.

Her condition was very bad.

Her Meridians were severed inch by inch, her Dantian was shattered, her spiritual power was collapsing, and she could not even stand steadily.

She leaned against a rock, her face as pale as paper, and the blood at the corner of her mouth had already congealed, leaving a dark red trace.

Her eyes were half-open and half-closed, her pupils unfocused, as if she would stop breathing at any moment.

Chu Sheng squatted down, looked at her, and remained expressionless.

Ling Wushuang suddenly opened her eyes, and a glimmer of light flashed through her unfocused pupils.

She looked at the zhu xian sword at Chu Sheng's waist, her lips moving, seemingly feeling that her time was running out.

"Can... can you let... let me touch your sword?"

Chu Sheng was stunned for a moment.

"If one hears the Dao in the morning, one can die in the evening."

Ling Wushuang's voice was very soft, but very firm, "I have sought the sword my entire life and have seen countless swords, but only... only this one of yours, I cannot see through. Before I die, let me touch it, and I will be content."

Chu Sheng was silent for a moment.

He thought to himself: She is already like this, touching it won't cause any trouble.

Besides, it was the last request of a dying person; he could not easily refuse.

He unbuckled the zhu xian sword from his waist and handed it over.

"Touch it."

Ling Wushuang's fingers touched the blade.

Her fingers were trembling, but the moment they touched the blade, they suddenly stopped shaking.

Her pupils contracted violently, her unfocused gaze became clear, and a strange flush appeared on her pale face.

Chu Sheng's expression changed.

He felt the zhu xian sword vibrating; it was not resonance, it was being refined by something.

Ling Wushuang was taking the opportunity to refine the zhu xian sword!

Her Dantian was clearly shattered, her Meridians were clearly broken, yet she was still forcibly driving her spiritual power.

That suicidal method would worsen her injuries tenfold.

But she did not care.

She only wanted to get this sword.

Chu Sheng did not hesitate; he slapped his palm onto Ling Wushuang's wrist, shaking her hand away from the blade.

Ling Wushuang groaned, and a mouthful of blood sprayed out, splashing onto the zhu xian sword and flowing down the patterns on the blade.

Her body fell backward like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily to the ground.

She coughed a few times, each time bringing up bloody foam.

Chu Sheng stood up, looked at the dying body on the ground, his face livid.

He thought to himself: This woman, even at this point, still wanted to scheme against him.

He was truly blind.

"You brought this upon yourself," Chu Sheng said coldly, then turned and walked away.

Ling Wushuang lay on the ground, reaching out her hand, wanting to grab something, but she grabbed nothing.

Her fingers scratched a few shallow marks in the dirt, then fell powerlessly.

Chu Sheng did not look back.

He walked a dozen steps, then suddenly stopped.

It was not that his heart had softened; it was that he sensed a terrifying aura.

The Demon Boy had arrived.

Black mist surged from afar, moving at an astonishing speed.

The Demon Boy stood in the center of the mist, the black crystal on his bone staff emitting a faint light.

He saw Ling Wushuang on the ground, and a hint of joy flashed in his turbid old eyes.

"A Sword-Wielding Elder of the Heavenly Sword Pavilion, a head at the Spirit Nurturing Peak—it was worth it," he laughed, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

He raised his bone staff, and the black crystal erupted with a burst of blood energy, covering Ling Wushuang.

Ling Wushuang did not even have the strength to struggle; she just lay on the ground, watching that black light get closer and closer.

Her eyes closed.

Chu Sheng stood in the distance, watching this scene without moving.

He thought to himself: This was her own doing; it had nothing to do with him.

The black light landed on Ling Wushuang, and her body seemed to be drained, rapidly shriveling up.

Her skin sank, her bones protruded, and her hair turned from pitch black to gray, then from gray to snow white.

In just a few breaths, she went from a peerless Sword Dao Prodigy to a withered corpse.

Then she quickly weathered away, leaving no trace, only some belongings.

The Demon Boy retracted his bone staff, licked his lips, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

He glanced at Chu Sheng, his gaze lingering on the zhu xian sword at his waist, but he did not make a move.

He had seen the scene where Chu Sheng killed two Devil Kings with one sword strike.

He was not confident he could take down Chu Sheng in a short time.

Moreover, he sensed several powerful auras rushing towards this side.

"Kid, I'll play with you next time," the Demon Boy said, and his figure disappeared into the black mist.

On the distant horizon, several beams of spiritual light sped over.

The Peak Master of the Tenth Peak, Ye Gucheng, and two Sword-Wielding Elders of the Heavenly Sword Pavilion.

They landed beside Ling Wushuang's belongings, their faces livid.

The two Sword-Wielding Elders' eyes turned red instantly.

"Senior Sister Ling!" One of them knelt on the ground, reaching out to touch Ling Wushuang's face, his fingers trembling.

The other turned abruptly, staring at Chu Sheng, his gaze like a knife.

"You—why didn't you save her?"

Chu Sheng stood there, expressionless, and said: "The Demon Boy arrived too quickly; I am not his match."

The Sword-Wielding Elder's fists clenched, cracking audibly, but he did not say anything more.

He had seen the traces on the battlefield, the bloodstains of the three Devil Kings, and Ling Wushuang's own bloodstains.

Chu Sheng had indeed severely injured a few Devil Kings, but that was all.

He alone could not defeat the Demon Boy.

This was the truth.

The Peak Master of the Tenth Peak squatted down, checked Ling Wushuang's belongings, stood up, and sighed.

"The Demon Boy's bone staff is embedded with a core fragment of Gluttony's remains, which specifically counters Sword Intent. The Heavenly Sword Art's power is greatly diminished in the face of the power of Gluttony."

The Sword-Wielding Elder gritted his teeth and said: "Pursue! The Demon Boy surely hasn't run far!"

The other Sword-Wielding Elder also stood up, drew his sword, and prepared to pursue.

Ye Gucheng spoke, his voice not loud, but very cold: "This is the heartland of the Demon Race. If you pursue further, the next ones to die will be you."

The two Sword-Wielding Elders stopped, their faces turning blue and white.

They knew Ye Gucheng was right.

Since the Demon Boy dared to set an ambush here, he must have made full preparations.

There were at least a dozen Devil Kings lurking in the dark nearby, waiting for them to walk into the trap.

One Sword-Wielding Elder sheathed his sword and glared fiercely at Chu Sheng.

He did not say anything, but the look in his eyes clearly said—'You are suspicious'.

Chu Sheng pretended not to see, cupped his hands, and said: "I am very sorry about Elder Ling's matter. The Demon Boy's strength is too great, and I... my personal strength is insufficient; I was truly powerless."

The Sword-Wielding Elder snorted and said nothing more.

The Peak Master of the Tenth Peak walked to Chu Sheng's side, patted his shoulder, and whispered: "Let's go. We'll talk when we get back."

Ye Gucheng glanced at Chu Sheng, said nothing, and turned to leap onto the spirit boat.

The two Sword-Wielding Elders picked up Ling Wushuang's corpse and also boarded the spirit boat.

Chu Sheng boarded last, standing at the stern of the spirit boat, looking back at the direction of the Golden Pasture.

The black mist there was still surging, like a giant beast that would never be full.

He thought to himself: Ling Wushuang is dead, and the Demon Boy took the blame.

If the Heavenly Sword Pavilion wants to hate, they will only hate the Demon Boy and the Blood God Sect; they won't hate him.

Perfect.

But there was still an indescribable feeling in his heart; it was not guilt, but something else.

He could not put his finger on it.

The spirit boat rose into the air, flying toward the Beiyuan Kingdom.

Chu Sheng stood at the stern, watching the wilderness beneath his feet get smaller and smaller, finally turning into a black dot.

He withdrew his gaze and walked into the cabin.

Inside the cabin, the two Sword-Wielding Elders sat beside Ling Wushuang's corpse, saying nothing.

Ye Gucheng closed his eyes, as if regulating his breath.

The Peak Master of the Tenth Peak sat in the corner, holding a cup of tea in his hand; the tea had already gone cold, but he did not drink it.

Chu Sheng found a seat, leaned against the cabin wall, and closed his eyes.