Chapter 66: Are You a Demon?

The treasured sword, infused with vital energy, struck the White-Bone General’s fist with perfect accuracy.

Suddenly, Qitian’s pupils contracted. Looking down, he saw that his arm was trembling.

The hardness of the White-Bone General’s fist had exceeded all his expectations. Just as Qitian was about to retreat, the fist transformed into a palm. The sword in Qitian’s hand slid against it and was deflected forward.

While Qitian was still stunned, the White-Bone General’s palm suddenly closed around the sword, seizing it firmly.

With one hand, he lifted the sword and flung it violently backward.

The moment Qitian felt the sword being seized, he sensed that something was wrong. Yet he did not release it. After years of martial training, a person developed certain habits—perhaps even a sense of security.

In this world, some people were willing to exhaust their entire fortunes for a miraculous elixir. Others would risk their lives and fight to the death for an unparalleled divine weapon.

The difference between having a weapon and being unarmed was enormous.

If someone who practiced external martial arts stood still and let you strike him, you could break your own hands attacking him and accomplish little more than scratching an itch. If you could not even penetrate his defenses, how could you possibly injure him?

But if you possessed a peerless weapon capable of slicing through iron as easily as mud, then unless your opponent had cultivated an impervious body, everything else was meaningless.

A single slash could sever a major artery. Even if you never fought him again, he would bleed to death soon afterward.

Qitian experienced that very consequence in the next instant. His entire body flew over the White-Bone General’s head, and the world spun around him.

His back struck the sharp edge of the stone coffin. It felt as though the corner had been driven into his flesh. After struggling a few times, he collapsed to the ground and lay motionless.

“I’ve heard that members of the demon race do not bleed even when weapons are thrust into their flesh. I’ve also heard that they cannot be killed, no matter how many times they are slain. How did you fall so easily?”

The White-Bone General tilted his head with startling humanlike curiosity. Closing his palm, he spoke in astonishment.

“I’m not... a demon!”

Qitian had just been knocked down by the White-Bone General, his body numbed by the impact against the coffin’s edge.

Unwilling to accept defeat, he struggled to rise. Then an unfamiliar voice came from before him, claiming that he was a member of the demon race.

He raised his head and saw the White-Bone General walking toward him, moving as though loosening his limbs before a fight.

Qitian reached out with his right hand and gripped the sword before him. His expression changed as he retorted.