Whoosh!
The second Sword of Sorrow was also drawn by him, stabbing sideways into his own waist, piercing through the tumor straight out.
The blade stabbed into the left side of his waist and emerged from the right side. He impaled himself completely through.
Blood gushed out of the wound like a stream.
This blood is dead blood; no longer active or regenerative. Merely a byproduct of being crushed by three forces.
Whoosh!
Casually conjuring a light sword, Lin Xin unhesitatingly stabbed it into his own chest.
Blood water splattered.
Yet the corners of his mouth split wider and wider.
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!!
Sword after sword of light gathered and viciously pierced into the tumor, simultaneously riddling his own body with countless wounds.
Sword blades stabbed into him, densely packed, growing in number, until eventually, he seemed like a horrifying corpse impaled by ten thousand swords.
