Chapter 121: Blood Grin's Death
The night was still—heavy with tension.
Moonlight bathed the courtyard in pale silver light, casting quiet shadows between two figures locked in deadly silence. One, a scarred assassin cloaked in darkness. The other, a young man standing in the light, golden eyes burning like embers.
Su Tianhao exhaled slowly, Shadowfang humming softly in his grip. His wounds no longer bled. His presence steadier than it had been all night.
Blood Grin licked his cracked lips. For the first time, that twisted smile faltered.
No more taunts. No more boasts.
Only killing intent.
Swoosh!
Su Tianhao moved—his figure a blur, sword blending seamlessly with the shadows.
Hmph.
"Shadow Clone Steps!"
Blood Grin shouted, activating his movement technique and vanishing into motion. Every step left afterimages designed to deceive the eye—six of them, each one indistinguishable from the last.
Su Tianhao wasn't surprised by the technique itself. Any Martial Adept could cultivate a movement art. What surprised him briefly was the effect—but only briefly.
"You think this is enough to stop me?" he said, eyes blazing.
"Try me," Blood Grin shot back, already moving again.
Su Tianhao charged forward, golden eyes narrowing with sharp calculation.
Slash. Thrust. Cleave.
Every strike came fast, clean, and lethal. But each one missed.
He gnashed his teeth, Shadowfang cutting again and again through the afterimages—weaving between the nine fundamental sword moves with practiced instinct. It was like fighting smoke. Like every lesson since his bloodline awakening had been compressed into a single desperate exchange and still come up short.
His swordsmanship sharpened with every pass—flawless, precise, almost as though a peerless sword master had taken hold of him. Sword Assimilation. Realm of Perfect Edge. Sword Sense. Pure killing intent. All of it combining into a single, relentless display.
Blood Grin's eye flickered with a flash of dread. He moved carefully, weaving through the strikes with slippery precision—an eel in water, always a hair's width from the edge. If not for his high-grade movement technique, he would have already been cut apart.
'He's toying with me... just like before,' Su Tianhao thought bitterly.
'Only one of these afterimages is real. He's not attacking, so I can't sense his intent. But if I can find the right one—'
Shing.
Shadowfang returned to its sheath in one fluid motion. Su Tianhao shifted his stance.
"Shadow-Splitting Flash—Flicker Edge!"
His figure vanished in a burst of explosive speed, golden eyes locking onto what he judged to be Blood Grin's true form. The blade tore through the air—deadly, precise—
And met nothing.
Mist.
An illusion.
"Looking for me?"
The voice came from behind him.
Su Tianhao's eyes widened. He turned—
"Too late."
BOOM!
A cannon-like fist drove into his abdomen. Air exploded from his lungs as the impact sent him hurtling backward.
Whoosh—CRACK!
He crashed through the wooden wall of his house. The collision split through the night like thunder, splintering beams, scattering debris. A wide section of the structure caved inward, revealing the open sky beyond.
Su Tianhao grunted through clenched teeth, body buried in the wreckage, blood pooling in his mouth. He didn't spit it out. He didn't cry out again.
Even in pain, one of his deepest rules held firm.
Never show weakness to the enemy.
"Quite the will," Blood Grin said, his eye gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "I'm going to enjoy breaking it."
Su Tianhao glared at him through the dust and debris—one arm wrapped tight around his abdomen, golden eyes narrowing with bone-deep coldness as he slowly pulled himself upright.
"You almost got me," Blood Grin laughed, his confidence fully returned now. "Turns out your progress wasn't so impressive after all."
"What are you talking about?" Su Tianhao said quietly, grip tightening on Shadowfang's hilt.
"You're still weak," Blood Grin said, his grin widening. "The only reason you've kept up with me is your techniques. If I'm not mistaken—you're barely a 1st level Martial Adept."
Su Tianhao drew a sharp breath.
'I've been seen through.'
Blood Grin had guessed close to the truth. Though slightly off, he had pierced through the illusion of overwhelming power Su Tianhao had projected. Every flicker of wariness in his eye vanished like mist under morning sun.
As the saying goes: a hidden edge cuts deeper than a drawn blade.
Now that the concealment was broken, only superior skill and strategy could decide the outcome.
Blood Grin stepped forward, his aura expanding outward—filled with the killing intent of years of murder and slaughter made tangible.
"I'll ask you again," he said, calm and certain. "Hand over your treasures and secrets, and I'll give you a quick and painless death."
Su Tianhao didn't answer.
His thoughts were spinning.
'I've done everything within my power. With my current strength, killing Blood Grin shouldn't be a problem. So why—'
WHY?
The question echoed inside him, frustration and resentment threatening to consume everything else.
Then, at the edge of collapse, a voice surfaced from somewhere deeper—flowing directly from Yuexin's sword insights, quiet and certain:
---
"The sword is not a vessel for rage. It is a mirror of the heart. When your thoughts are clouded, your blade will waver. When your heart is pure, it will never miss its mark.
Do not let hatred grip your hilt—let clarity guide your edge. A sword drawn in anger is wild and blind. But a sword wielded in stillness... is absolute."
---
"Mother..."
Su Tianhao's eyes widened. He recognized those words.
'That's it. My heart is so full of revenge I can't think straight. The Heart Demon—it's still clouding me. Even now.'
Then another thought arrived like lightning splitting a dark sky.
'Phantom Bloom. How did I forget my most powerful move?'
'I still have the element of surprise.'
Blood Grin's voice cut through his thoughts: "You've been silent long enough. I'll assume you refused my kind offer."
Su Tianhao raised his eyes to meet Blood Grin's—cold, steady, decided.
"I'm done playing games. Come at me."
"Jejeje! You're already injured. What can your petty strength do against me?" Blood Grin sneered.
Su Tianhao didn't respond.
"Devour."
The word rang out like an ancient call, low and commanding.
Whoosh!
The vortex within his dantian surged to life, pulling spiritual energy from a twenty-meter radius into Su Tianhao's body in a rushing torrent. The energy refined instantly into revitalizing force—flooding through his meridians, sealing internal injuries, replenishing stamina, restoring everything that had been spent.
In seconds, he was back to peak condition. More than peak—energy compressed within him like a coiled spring.
Aah~
Su Tianhao exhaled, his fist clenching slowly as the power settled through him.
Blood Grin's expression darkened. "That's cheating."
"In a battle of life and death, there's no such thing as fair," Su Tianhao said flatly, both hands moving to Shadowfang's hilt as he settled into his stance.
Blood Grin's eye narrowed. Instinct screamed at him—'End this quickly.'
"Shadow Clone Steps!"
He activated the technique again—but this time, he attacked.
Six afterimages erupted forward in perfect synchronization, daggers drawn from his spatial ring, each phantom holding a pair. Left, right, overhead, low—twelve blades descending from every angle simultaneously. Throat, heart, kidneys, joints, meridians, pressure points—a coordinated assault designed to cripple and kill in the same breath.
Blood Grin's eye blazed with savage triumph. 'Twelve-Point Death Strike—my signature technique. No one has ever survived it.'
The afterimages closed the distance in an instant. Blades mere seconds from flesh, the force of the strike already kissing Su Tianhao's skin—
His eyes snapped open.
Two golden orbs blazed beneath the moonlight like embers fed by wind.
'I have you now.'
Blood Grin was actively attacking. Su Tianhao could feel the intent behind it—read it clearly. This was the principle of Parry, assimilated deep into his very being. Six afterimages, but only one carried true killing intent. The illusion that Blood Grin had staked everything on was already broken.
His figure shot forward like an arrow loosed from full draw.
"Shadow-Splitting Flash—Phantom Bloom!"
The words fell like a sword chant—calm, commanding, final.
Shadowfang burst from its sheath in a single flowing motion.
The world bloomed.
A thousand obsidian petals spun into existence—phantom slashes painted across the night sky in arcs of black steel. Each afterimage shimmered with lethal grace, forming a vortex of illusion and inevitability. The air screamed beneath their weight.
Blood Grin's pupil contracted.
"What—"
Every direction felt like death. Every movement threatened to walk into the one true blade hidden within the storm. His body froze—instincts screaming, unable to act.
For just one breath, he stood in the eye of it.
Then the blade found him.
One stroke. Nearly imperceptible.
Then stillness.
Shadowfang returned to its sheath with a quiet click.
Blood Grin's body stood rigid—disbelief frozen on his twisted face, that permanent smile still carved into his features. Then a single line of crimson traced down his chest.
His body split cleanly apart and fell.
The afterimages faded into the wind.
Silence reclaimed the courtyard.
Su Tianhao exhaled slowly, lowering Shadowfang. His golden eyes dimmed back to their usual quiet.
"...I did it."