Return of the Immortal Emperor Daddy novel Chapter 390

"The Ominous Blade?"

When Wu Tian said that the current Sword Saint of Fusang was the Ominous Blade, the surrounding crowd grew even more shocked, erupting in an uproar of disbelief.

"You can actually tell. Not bad, not bad at all," the "Sword Saint of Fusang" spoke, his voice icy and his aura chilling. Anyone he glanced at felt a wave of fear.

"The Ominous Blade? Is it an evil blade?"

"That's right! There are many stories about the Ominous Blade in Fusang."

Suddenly, the martial practitioners from Dragon Country recalled the legends surrounding the Ominous Blade, and their faces turned pale. Could those legends be true?

The Ominous Blade, as the stories went, was an incredibly malevolent sword. There were three in existence: the first, second, and third-generation Ominous Blades. By the third generation, its mana had weakened considerably, but the first-generation Ominous Blade was said to possess world-ending power. Of course, the stronger the power, the greater the price. Every master of the Ominous Blade had died an untimely death, which was why it was known as the "Ominous Blade." Legend said that an evil Sword Spirit dwelled within the blade, capable of eroding its wielder's mind.

Wang Congming and the others never imagined the legends were real. The Sword Saint of Fusang was already dead, but the spirit of the Ominous Blade had possessed his corpse to move on its own.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

"Your blood... is what I need."

The "Sword Saint of Fusang" stalked toward Wu Tian, the sinister aura around him growing heavier. As he walked, he licked his lips, saliva disgustingly trickling down his chin before dripping to the ground. He looked as if he were starving.

"The Sword Saint of Fusang is dead, and the Ominous Blade has taken over his body? Heavens! How can a human possibly defeat such an existence?"

"This is like a ghost story."

"Can the Martial Emperor defeat a being like that?"

Everyone was certain that Wu Tian had no chance of victory.

"A bunch of idiots," the little girl in Wu Tian's arms scoffed. Her intuition told her that this so-called Sword Spirit, even in a human body, was no match for her father. It was like a minor demon acting brashly before the Underworld King—a complete overestimation of its own abilities, like a mantis trying to stop a chariot, utterly courting death.

But the others didn't share the little girl's confidence. They believed it was impossible for a human to fight against ghosts and monsters. Looking at Wu Tian, they couldn't help but sigh. It seemed a Martial Emperor of his generation was about to fall today. What a pity. A true pity.

Some people even began to quietly slip away. They were sure Wu Tian was no match for the "Sword Saint of Fusang." If we don't leave, what if it kills Wu Tian and decides that wasn't enough, turning on us next?

Hai Zhong, however, was looking spirited again. He didn't understand anything about Sword Spirits, but he let out a few barks to show his loyalty to the "Sword Saint of Fusang." I am forever your dog!

But the "Sword Saint of Fusang" couldn't be bothered with him, feeling that even killing him would dirty its hands.

Wu Tian spoke calmly, "One kick."

"What?" the "Sword Saint of Fusang" asked, slightly startled.

"Are you an idiot? Or just senile? My dad said he still only needs one kick to deal with you," the little girl, still cradled in Wu Tian's arms, snorted at the "Sword Saint of Fusang."

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