The last of these words clearly targeted Lu Wuming, who stood by Liu Buli's side.
Unlike before, now that there was no pretense, Lu Wuming made no attempt to conceal the ghostly aura emanating from him. It was only natural for it to be detected.
Upon hearing the other person's words, Liu Buli's expression remained calm. He seemed utterly unfazed by the revelation of his disciple's secret, even offering a serene smile. Nodding emphatically, he said, "Yes, you speak the truth. My disciple is of the Ghost Clan, the direct son of the Ghost King. Are you afraid? Even if you were to kowtow and apologize now, I wouldn't spare your life. However, if you behave yourselves, I might allow my disciple to refrain from eating you. What do you think of that arrangement?"
Anyone could see that Liu Buli was in a state of utter defiance. Facing such an attitude, resolving the situation through words was utterly impossible.
A fight was inevitable.
Thus, everyone withdrew their thoughts and ceased their verbal exchange with Liu Buli.
Despite the large number of people present and the continuous barrage of curses and accusations directed at him, Liu Buli considered it all insignificant. He merely flicked his long sword, gestured to the two beside him, and said with a smile, "There are no complex strategies. Just one thing: watch yourselves during the fight. When it's over, I hope we all emerge alive."
Lu Wuming nodded obediently.
Shen Muzhi, however, returned his smile and offered a reminder, "Worry about yourself instead. After all, among the three of us, you are the most like an ordinary human. I have several lives to spare, and Lu Wuming will not die. Therefore, you are the only one who might. Be careful, so you don't make us worry."
As his words fell, as if to echo his sentiment, Liu Buli, sword in hand, charged towards the group.
The battle erupted.
The various lights and phenomena generated by their cultivation techniques transformed the sky. Once the fight began, regardless of the initial reasons, everyone understood one truth—
This was a fight to the death. Anyone who faltered in the midst of combat would surely perish. No one wished to become a soul lost to the sword. Consequently, the fighting grew fiercer and more earnest.
From the moon rising above the treetops to the sunset painting the sky red, and then the arrival of dawn, followed by the return of the deep night.
Due to the sheer number of participants, the battle dragged on far longer than anticipated.
Liu Buli could distinctly feel his sword-wielding hand growing numb from the incessant slashes. Fortunately, the sword was divine, and it seemed unconcerned with his physical state. He felt akin to the walking dead he had encountered in the Ghost City. As the battle reached its tenth day, Liu Buli could clearly sense that the relationship between him and the sword had shifted from him controlling it to the sword controlling him.
All he needed to do was continuously inject spiritual energy into the sword and ensure his own safety. The sword would then actively complete all offensive maneuvers for him.
It was a blessing that he had encountered that person in the Ghost City. With that individual as an example, Liu Buli knew how to protect himself during this extreme combat when cooperating with the sword.
The sword was a mindless instrument of pure slaughter. Perhaps because of this, by the twentieth day of the battle, there was no one left standing around Liu Buli.
The sword continued to seek opponents. When he heard footsteps approaching from behind, Liu Buli hesitated slightly, but the sword in his hand was disobedient. It moved with Liu Buli's body towards his back, executing an attack.
The movement was incredibly swift, and Liu Buli's spirit and spiritual energy were nearing their limits. Like the walking dead from the beginning, he could no longer control the sword. As the blade swung out, Liu Buli instinctively turned with it, and his eyes fell upon Lu Wuming, who had walked up beside him.
If he had followed the divine sword's attack, Lu Wuming's chest would have been ripped open by a gaping hole.
Even though he knew Lu Wuming wouldn't die, just as he had always said, Lu Wuming would feel pain, and that was something Liu Buli did not wish to witness.
So, in that split second, even Lu Wuming thought the sword was about to pierce his chest. To his surprise, Liu Buli let out a hoarse roar and extended his other hand, fiercely gripping the arm holding the sword. He forcefully halted all movement just before the blade could touch Lu Wuming's body.
Lu Wuming couldn't fathom how much mental strength it took to achieve such a feat.
However, the surge of spiritual energy he felt in that instant told him that Liu Buli had exhausted every ounce of his strength to stop his own action.
The hand gripping the sword trembled incessantly. The extent of its tremor indicated that the sword was still straining towards Lu Wuming, as if given the slightest opportunity, it would pierce his chest.
Liu Buli could feel the sword's forward motion nearly tearing his arm apart.
Yet, even at this point, the hand gripping his arm showed no sign of loosening.
Blood-red tears welled in his eyes, and blood trickled from his mouth. But he maintained his clenched-teeth stance, staring at the sword. Liu Buli gritted out a single sentence, "You are merely a sword. I don't care who your previous master was; your current master is me. I am the one controlling you. You only have the right to obey my commands; you will never control me!"