Siqi, Xuantai Mountain, Yangming Temple, Daxiong Treasure Hall.
Accompanied by the sound of a sharp weapon slicing into flesh, Li Huowang watched as the dark-skinned monk before him was cleaved in two, the black fluid that gushed out nearly splashing onto his face.
Sensing that the black fluid was dangerous, the four tentacles propping Li Huowang up from behind swiftly pulled back, allowing the fluid to slide past his face by a hair's breadth.
"Heh..." Standing in the hall, enveloped in Evil Qi, Li Huowang slightly opened his mouth and slowly exhaled a cloud of bloody energy from deep within his throat.
At this moment, despite having lost a hand, he was holding three swords. Behind him lay a dense pile of monk corpses. With a ferocious expression, Li Huowang glared with his bloodshot eyes at the distant Golden Buddha.
