At this moment, Lin Xuan's mind was already somewhat hazy, and he was only relying on a surge of willpower to keep Baoshe in his grasp.
In that daze, how could he still have the presence of mind to distinguish or ponder anything? Throwing all caution to the wind, he opened his mouth from behind and bit down on Baoshe.
Fresh blood spurted out.
To be fair, this kind of fighting was shameless to the extreme, but Lin Xuan's bite strength was also rather remarkable.
It rivaled the Demon Race of the same rank—even stronger rather than weaker, one could say. He was like a fierce tiger descending the mountain, biting Baoshe and tearing at her with all his might.
Baoshe was both in pain and furious, nearly driven mad with rage.
As the dignified True Devil Progenitor, when had she ever been in such a sorry state?
And what was happening before her was far too stifling.
Where was there ever a cultivator's duel that descended to this point?
If she had not witnessed it with her own eyes and experienced it herself, she would never have believed the scene before her.
This Lin Kid was, at any rate, a Tribulation Transcendence Late Stage cultivator. Did he have even the slightest bearing of an expert?
He was simply a disgrace to Cultivators.
Strictly speaking, such thoughts were not wrong, but in the final analysis, they were merely Baoshe's wishful thinking.
At this moment, how could Lin Xuan care about so much?
So what if the scene was ugly? The enemy was strong and he was weak; how to win was what mattered most.
As for face?
Compared to his desire to protect his beloved wife, what did that amount to?
A dragon had reverse scales, and touching them would