1093. Sword Saint

The expert smiled when he heard those words. His forefinger rose once again as he spoke in a challenging tone. "Attack right here then. Don't hold back."

Noah's ambition intensified even more. A god was right in front of him. Cutting him down would be the greatest accomplishment ever made by a heroic cultivator.

The world around him disappeared as his focus reached its peak. Noah could only see the forefinger. Nothing else mattered in his mind anymore.

A black spot appeared on his ghostly figure's chest. The mark enlarged until it took the shape of a star that engulfed half of his torso in its rotation.

Noah was calling upon the entirety of his individuality to perform that slash. It didn't matter if some of its aspects didn't match swords well. He wanted to pour all his existence into his most potent attack.

His ghostly figure began to morph. A tail and two wings grew from his back. A pair of horns rose from his forehead, and his fingers became long claws.