Jiu pulled the Cold Poison Blade, stained with the blood of Demon Fiends, from the crack it was deeply embedded in Pang Xiaoming's skull. The blade scraping against bone produced a cringe-inducing grinding sound.
"Hmph. You foul thing. Who did you say was Ye Liyuan?"
Jiu sneered mockingly. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the Demon Blood arcing through the air in a scarlet line, flinging it all to the ground.
Just as she flung off the last drop of blood, she caught a glimpse of a white-robed figure in her peripheral vision.
Jiu's pupils contracted instantly. Her fingers tightened around the blade unconsciously, her knuckles turning pale.
She turned her head stiffly. The White-clothed Sword Immortal stood there quietly, not far away, his robes fluttering slightly in the wind and rain. His handsome face was unreadable.
'I'm done for!'
The thought exploded in Jiu's mind like a clap of thunder.
