The thick blood flowed down Ning Fan's back along the sharp sword blade, an eerie silence enveloping the grand hall. The Second Elder, Teng Qiming's sword was embedded into Ning Fan's chest. It appeared as though it had pierced straight through Ning Fan's heart. With an injury like this, it seemed no one could possibly survive.
The Second Elder had stopped breathing entirely. His pupils gradually lost focus, and his body remained motionless, frozen in the posture of thrusting the sword.
In his final moments, as he felt the sensation of his sword making contact, his only thought was—this should be enough. It was his last act for the Yunteng Family, his ultimate realization of swordsmanship. A faint smile curled at the corners of his lips before he peacefully passed away.
"Second Elder?"
Teng Bei crawled up from the ground, clutching his shoulder, his voice quietly calling out.
