"Shen Haoran? How is that possible? Isn't he dead?" Jian Wushuang and the surviving disciples cried out in alarm at the sight of the figure radiating a savage aura. They had clearly seen Shen Haoran fall into that deep pit.
"Quick, look under Shen Haoran! Isn't that the Demon King?" a disciple shouted again, pointing at the wailing Demon King Husky.
At this moment, the Demon King's cries were utterly wretched, enough to make one's heart tremble. Both of his arms had been violently ripped off by Shen Haoran. The Soul-devouring Sword was plunged deep into his back, pinning his body to the ground and immobilizing him. Jian Wushuang and the others could hardly imagine that Shen Haoran, who couldn't last more than a few moves against the Demon King just days ago, was now capable of pushing him to such a state!
