As the sword's tip burst from the back of a neck, it split into eight phantom images. At the same instant, lines of blood blossomed on the throats of the other fifteen disciples.
"Ghk… ghk…"
Yan Qi's gasp was swallowed by the bloody foam bubbling from his throat. As he stumbled backward, he saw the other five longswords swimming through the air like living creatures, just as one of them suddenly slashed at him horizontally.
His vision spun, and the world turned upside down.
As Yan Qi's head flew toward the Yin River, the sword's blade clearly reflected the fine scales appearing on Qi Huan's right cheek.
Heavy gasps escaped Qi Huan's lips. As his Blood Qi receded, the fine scales on his face began to sink back into his skin.
He lifted his arm and watched the coarse scales there soften, shrink, and vanish back into his flesh. His fingers, which had sharpened to points, slowly returned to their normal shape.
