That fragment gave the blade a will of its own. It hungered. It could kill, yes—but that was mercy compared to what it was truly made for. With a single, precise strike, it could rip the soul from a body, drain an immortal of their divine power until nothing remained, and shatter their essence into irretrievable pieces scattered across the void.
It was the same dagger Xue Wuheng had entrusted this weapon to Peng Xiu with a singular purpose, a task she ultimately failed. Now, his fingers curled possessively around the hilt as he drove it into Xiang Yu's back.
The runes flared to life, glowing a sinister deep green. The mark on Xue Wuheng's wrist pulsed in response, and the weapon's hunger awoke. Invisible threads latched onto Xiang Yu's core, bypassing his own power and latching directly onto the fragment of Han Xin's divine essence embedded within him.
