Seven Star Island: Self-Mutilation Secret Art

As she stared at the demonic cloud blocking her path, Madam Black Python's face turned livid, and a faint trace of panic flickered in her eyes.

But in the end, she was still a Nascent Soul Realm expert. After adjusting her breathing for a moment, she forced down her wavering emotions.

At this moment, she absolutely could not throw herself into disorder. As the saying went, if it was fortune, it was not disaster; if it was disaster, there was no hiding from it. Even if she could not control five-element artifacts, it was not as though she had no chance of winning at all.

Looking at the female demon with a human body and leopard head, Madam Black Python sighed. The magic power within her circulated slightly, and an astonishing spiritual pressure immediately surged out. On her exposed skin—her face, neck, and lower abdomen—dense layers of scales began to grow.

Those scales were only the size of fingernails, pitch-black as ink. Linked together, they looked like a bizarre suit of battle armor.

The female demon frowned, her expression turning somewhat solemn as well.

"I have neither grievance nor enmity with you, fellow Daoist. Why must you press me so bitterly?" Madam Black Python waved a hand and slowly spoke.

"Hmph. Humans and our Demon Race have always been mortal enemies. We attack and slaughter one another—do we still need a reason?"

"That may be true, but whether human or demon, one only has a single life. In any case, I am a Nascent Soul Cultivator. Are you truly so confident that you can win steadily against me? Taking ten thousand steps back, even if you do win, if you are too heavily injured, the gain will not make up for the loss." Madam Black Python used her tongue as