It vibrated its ossein wings a hundred and twenty thousand times within two seconds.
The high-frequency sound waves, like invisible knives, sliced through the pool of blood and dove towards the corpses on the shore.
However, no sooner than three feet did the sound waves travel before they dissolved into faint musical notes and then stretched out into a long, fading tone.
Baphomet stepped forward, stirring a wave of blood, ready to strike again with the other ossein wing.
But was met with a crackling sound of bone snapping section by section and falling into the pool of blood.
Realizing something was amiss, it looked up to the sky where the golden dots still hung tens of thousands of meters high, unmoved.
Baphomet, feeling somewhat lucky, decisively raised its claw, planning to smash Zhao Ling's corpse into mush, but the next second, the bulky arm detached from its body and flew away.
