The battle raged on for over half an hour. The three of us brothers were beaten so black and blue by that monster that we barely looked human anymore.
Let's put it this way—even Xue Pan, a ghost, had his pants pissed through more than a dozen times. One could only imagine how brutal the fight had been.
After narrowly dodging another attack from the monster, I panted heavily, doing my best to keep myself calm.
Any fellow cultivator who read novels knew that the more critical the moment, the clearer one had to keep one's head. Only then could one spot the enemy's weakness and find an opportunity to deliver a fatal blow.
I raised a hand and wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, carefully analyzing the monster before me.
This monster had hide as tough as leather and flesh as thick as armor, with astonishing defenses. Trying to break through from the outside was plainly a fool's dream.
At first, I had wanted to make something of its occasionally gaping maw, but every time I saw those sharp fangs, I immediately gave up on the idea.
Nothing else—I was honestly a little too scared to make a move. What if I screwed up? Wouldn't that be the end of me? What if it bit my hand?
After thinking it over and over, the only weak point this bastard might have was probably its chrysanthemum.
Because every attack Old Gouzi and I had launched at it had been nothing to it. It had not even let out a single fart.
Only the damage Xue Pan inflicted could make it whimper now and then.
It was not hard to tell from the sounds that this bastard monster was hurting like hell too.
Just then, Xue Pan, who