Loki, So the Clown Was Actually Me!?

"Heh, so what if you're a god!?"

As he spoke, the twin swords in Long Fan's hands danced up and down.

He moved as leisurely as if strolling through a courtyard.

He continuously neutralized the incoming assaults of Evil Spirit mist.

No matter how his opponent attacked, Long Fan simply floated and stepped forward.

It was as though every step he took left him utterly immovable.

Nine-colored sword radiance swept in every direction.

Time and again, it scattered Loki's probing attacks and utterly dismantled them.

Across from him, Loki flicked his tall jester hat aside.

He gave an eerie smile.

"Heh, not bad. Next, play a game with my little darling..."

The moment his words fell.

A figure shrouded in gray mist emerged.

Accompanied by a deafening roar.

"Awoo!!—"

The Demon Wolf Fenrir, covered in obsidian-like fur, appeared before everyone.

Though it was not as heaven-defying in size as Jörmungandr.

It was still tens of thousands of meters long, no less massive than the Heaven's Wrath Chimera.

It had barely made its flashy entrance.

When, in the next instant.

A faint black glint flashed and vanished.

Its enormous body seemed to tremble slightly.

Then, it immediately fell silent.

It could no longer let out its thunderous howl.

Its massive body crashed down onto the sea.

This incomparably strange strike had been steady, precise, and ruthless.

Naturally, Long Fan had made the move.

The moment Loki tossed out that jester hat and Long Fan sensed the spatial summoning fluctuations, he knew the other side might be initiating some kind of summoning ritual.

So, he directly used seventy-twofold spatial stacking and unleashed a fully charged God of Slaughter Stab.

It was a completely silent, one-hit kill.

The strike pierced the central nervous region at the back of Demon Wolf Fenrir's neck.

And