Chapter 1567: Two Four-Poles

"Blade of Nether Malice!" Prince Mingyin barked the words and yanked a pitch-black, sinister saber out of the void. The air around it dimmed, as if the light itself recoiled. The weapon's might was anything but ordinary. If pushed to its limit, it could cleave immortals above and butcher ghosts and gods below. An average cultivator would not even need to be struck by the blade itself. A scrape from its intent would be enough for that wicked aura to seep into their marrow, fester inside their body,...