"GASP... GASP..."
Zhou Pingchun's eyes bulged as he stared at Li Ang in disbelief. A choked, gurgling sound came from his throat, blood foaming between his fingers.
He scrambled to his feet, stumbling back several steps. He waved his blood-soaked hands aimlessly for help, but all the villagers seemed to shun him, retreating en masse.
THUMP.
Zhou Pingchun fell to his knees, his face pale. His silk robe, embroidered with gold coin patterns, was soaked with blood and mud, his hunched body appearing so small.
"Sigh..."
Cheng Juxiu sighed deeply and executed a sword seal. The longsword at his waist flew from its sheath, transforming into a blurred green shadow that circled lightly around Zhou Pingchun's neck.
SWISH—
Zhou Pingchun's head was flung upwards, soaring into the sky. It was split in two by the Flying Sword before falling heavily onto the muddy ground along with his headless body.
