"Unfortunately, you have no chance now!"
Jia Zhenjing shouted, his sharp fingertips mixed with a violent gust, piercing through the powerful resistance of space with a crackle.
"No!!! I, the Clay King, will not die! You cannot kill me!"
The Clay King's eyes were red, his voice was harsh and hoarse as he roared.
But he felt the strong aura of the Holy War Angel from his opponent.
This, how is this possible? Could it be that the Holy War Angel has also come to the Dark Prison?
"Puh—"
The Finger Light sliced through the air, carving a deep bloody hole across the Clay King's chest.
"How can you have the aura of the Holy War Angel on you?" Having dodged a fatal blow, the Clay King's wounds quickly healed, his gaze fierce, revealing an incredulous expression.
Just now, he thought it was truly the descent of the Holy War Angel, but in the end, he realized this was not the Holy War Angel's aura at all; it was clearly transmitted from this guy in front of him.
