"Kill!"
CLANG!
The cold Sword Light moved like a dragon, weaving relentlessly through the hordes of demonic fiends. Every chop, every sweep, stirred up a cloud of black ash—the remnants of scattered, distracting thoughts.
In the dreamscape, the battle was a contest of will. And Zhong Ming's Heart Soul Rhyme was unquestionably his strongest attribute. This made the Zhong Ming in the dream even more formidable than his real-world self.
Though he could only use a sword to temper his Sword Heart, Zhong Ming still managed to cut the Demonic Fiends to pieces with just that single longsword.
Amid the slaughter, a question flashed through Zhong Ming's mind:
'Don't Heart Demons grow stronger along with a Cultivator's power? Why are mine so weak? Not a single one can withstand even one of my strikes.'
The moment this wisp of doubt appeared, it condensed into a blurry Heart Demon shadow, which he promptly obliterated into ash with a backhanded slash.
