Indeed, the sword is a weapon of violence, craving blood.
But it also chooses its master.
This object seemed to sense that its own blood was more nourishing than Hiroshi Tanaka's, and, unable to wait, it eagerly sucked it in and expelled his.
Is it already discarding the old for the new?
So, if it killed someone, would it also suck their blood, becoming disgustingly dirty?
Since it is a treasured sword with a spirit, it cannot possibly be such an inconvenient object.
There must be another way.
Zhou Ping'an pressed the blade close to his forehead, pondered for a moment, and vigorously stimulated his heart's intentions while visualizing the image of Cang Yue's precious blade.
A strand of red flame blazed up, wrapping around it.
He thought he faintly heard a sword cry, filled with joy and pain.
Resonating deep within his soul.
"This is promising."