Ang's figure, clutching Tutataab's arm, slowly faded into the gray mist, as if it were being swallowed bit by bit by the void.
The mist churned, and the aftershocks still reverberated between heaven and earth.
The gale unleashed by the explosion had yet to fully subside, but everyone's gazes lingered only briefly in the direction where Ang had vanished.
Then, driven by more urgent desires, they pounced toward the severed limbs scattered across the area.
Before the explosion, Ang had deliberately swung his blade several more times, completely cutting Tutataab's body apart.
The body of a Tier 4 Foul Spirit was utterly unlike anything ordinary. Even after being divided into several pieces, not a single drop of blood flowed from the wounds.
It was as though, in that instant, the severed limbs had become independent vessels, their power and blood sealed tightly within without the slightest loss.
The bizarre sight filled everyone with fear while also igniting intense greed.
By the time the gray mist dispersed, everyone had found a portion of the severed limbs.
Lanlost had obtained an arm, the burly man held a leg, and the female Grand Archmage had placed a section of the torso into her spatial ring.
Fisher and several other Grand Archmages had also gained something.
Only the tall angel continued circling the sky, constantly searching for the traces of his other two companions.
In contrast, undisguised smiles filled everyone else's faces.
To them, the body of a Tier 4 Foul Spirit was a priceless treasure—whether used to refine Law Potions, forge equipment, or strengthen themselves, it could bring unimaginable gains.
"How should we deal with this fellow's head..." Fisher stared cautiously at Tutataab's head floating in the air.
The burly man narrowed his eyes, his low voice filled with greed. "What else can