"Evil Demon, your doomsday has come."
Song Qingsi gazed at the opposite, speaking softly.
Hee, as if facing a great enemy, stared closely at the long-handled scythe in her hand, saying gravely:
"If I'm not mistaken, you should be..."
"There's no need to worry about who I am," Song Qingsi interrupted, saying directly, "You were resurrected by the evil power inherent in some soul."
Dark flames entwined around the long-handled scythe.
As she spoke, these terrifying flames soared into the sky, manifesting into a skeleton clad in a black robe.
—The Fiery Flame Death God!
"I can retreat, and we won't interfere with each other," Hee said.
"Do you dare try to fool me with such words? Go to hell."
The girl grumbled, pointing the long-handled scythe forward.
An unparalleled magic had already been unleashed.
In a flash—
Hee roared angrily:
"Do you really think I'm afraid of you?"
