For a moment, the world was all white, like falling frost and snow.
The entire view seemed to be filled with this single sword.
The sword blinds the eyes; the human world is not seen.
The Disaster Fighting King Beast, once leisurely like a cat playing with a mouse, suddenly bristled its neck fur, feeling a rare sense of danger.
A special sheen abruptly flowed over its black fur, instantly freeing it from the sword's lock.
With a leap backward, it retreated hundreds of feet.
Yet, it still drew a string of blood beads, floating in the air, forming a thin "bridge."
This side of the "bridge" was the tip of Longing's sword, and the other side was beneath the Disaster Fighting King Beast's neck.
There, its black fur was for the first time cut open, the bloody wound was ghastly, deep enough to reveal bone.
If it were just an inch higher, it might have been beheaded!
Too complacent.
This sword wound was entirely due to its complacency.
