Cold sweat slowly trickled down Zheng Qing's temple.
Along with him, Jiang Yu and the Black Cat under both of them also fell into silence.
Although since stepping onto the battlefield, they had shattered countless demons along the way, Zheng Qing once thought that whether they turned to dust or blossomed into blood flowers in mid-air, it didn't seem to matter much.
But when the horned snake was brutally cut into seven or eight pieces in front of him, the heavy thud of those massive chunks of flesh hitting the ground shook the young wizard greatly. Warm blood gushed out like a fountain from the broken sections of flesh, sizzling, gurgling, quickly soaking a large patch of charred land.
Just a little bit more, and they would have been the ones cut into pieces.
