Having escaped death, Wang Zhan flung the woman onto the grass. He charged at the injured intermediate Soldier-level beast in the distance that was struggling to get up.
"Eight Extremes Fist! The Eight Styles of Golden Vajra—Descending Dragon!"
"Crouching Tiger!"
"Splitting Mountain!"
"Riding Elephant!"
One move after another, Wang Zhan fought purely on physical body defense against the intermediate Soldier-level beast. The beast's head, body, limbs, and even its soft belly became Wang Zhan's primary targets.
In no more than a moment, the beast lay at his feet, leaving him soaked in blood.
Wang Zhan looked at the corpse in front of him, his heart undisturbed. He simply turned around, carried the woman on his back, and walked out of this battlefield in the wilderness.
"Hmm..."
The woman let out a soft groan as her consciousness slowly returned. Her pretty face was a mess, but she immediately smelled the strong scent of blood on Wang Zhan. Her hand felt sticky.
