A sword and its wielder. Both never slept, and so they were called a demonic sword. For a long time, Winter Dream had been the same.
Swordsmen who stained their beloved blades with the provocative will of the Demonic Path were accustomed to losing sleep. That made them all the more eccentric and dangerous. The Wudang Sect Leader, True Person Ok-am, murmured.
“The dream of winter has faded, and the swords of the common folk have awakened from their slumber.”
“...Are you reciting poetry now?”
The Eon Family Martial King, Eon Mun-hak, sneered with a blank face. Of course, it was a grave mistake. But for a martial noble house, there was no helping it.
The Desolate Fortress’s Heaven-Obedient Wing Squad Leader had regained a clarity in his eyes equal to that of his older brother, the Blue Qilin. The head of Martial Star Wuqu rolled across the ground and knocked lightly against Winter Dream, which was planted blade-first in the dirt. Soon after, the body of Martial Star Wuqu collapsed without resistance.
It was only natural, for he had been a corpse to begin with. He had been cut down by an instantaneous Moon-Piercing Art. Everything within the Eon Family’s Grand Art had been swept away.