This sword, Chen Lin had never seen it lightly, but he had read about Lu Qiming's records in the "Hall of Fame," where the appearance of this sword was described.
To say that this sword is not much different from other swords. The reason why Chen Lin could recognize it was entirely because of the strands of black lines wrapped around the hilt.
These lines blended seamlessly with the hilt, leaving a deep impression on Chen Lin.
He involuntarily moved his hand, taking this sword from Lin Chen's hand, then leaned forward and grasped the hilt.
Chen Lin slowly observed it, his gaze carrying a thoughtful expression.
"I don't know what's so strange about Lu Kang's sword, but he managed to persuade many people in the city to perform sacrifices for it."
Lin Chen said slowly, his brows tightly knit.
A snorting sound came from Chen Lin's breath, the sound was very abrupt, making it seem somewhat peculiar.
