"What? Is this all you've got?"
All three of Saral's heads burst into mocking laughter as the attacks from his six arms became even more ferocious.
So what if the saber was shattered?
In such high-intensity combat, the longer the fight dragged on, the more disadvantageous it was for Qin Tian.
Seeing Saral's assault growing ever more rampant, Qin Tian let out a cold chuckle, and his sword momentum suddenly changed.
From broad strokes and slashes, it transformed into more elusive, more insidious cuts.
The Black Frost Saber no longer sought a single fatal blow, but like a viper's fangs, it left a myriad of deeper or shallower wounds on Saral's body.
Each slash deliberately avoided vital points, making Saral bleed, but not fatally.
Saral sensed something amiss.
Though the wounds quickly healed with the recuperative power of the Asura Battle Physique, he seemed to be losing something in the process.
Not blood, nor physical strength, but something deeper, unexplainable.
