The body covered by the dark red scale armor stood tall like a javelin, and the withered face seemed to be re-injected with vitality, wrinkles smoothing out.
Deep within the turbid eyes, a long-lost intoxication of power's return burned, and
...a cat-and-mouse-like cruel pleasure.
"Hoo... ha..."
Fang Qingyu panted heavily, trying to mobilize the residual Qi Blood within.
The gap was too large.
The chasm of life levels was like a natural moat.
The opponent didn't even need to use complex moves; merely the pure pressure and casual moves made him like a leaf boat in a raging sea, in danger of capsizing at any moment.
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
Jiang Taixuan spoke slowly, his voice no longer hoarse but instead carried a strange calm, like an elder inquiring about a junior's studies.
He stepped forward, the viscous bloody floor silently sinking under his feet.
