The Eight-Armed Skeleton's figure suddenly seemed exceptionally tall in the Lich Old Man's eyes.
The Lich Old Man slowly exhaled, feeling that not provoking the Eight-Armed Skeleton earlier and allowing it to move freely had been the wisest choice he had made. Otherwise, the one who had just had an arm blown off might not have been Tinwood, but him.
Now, the reward for his earlier good deed had arrived.
Though he did not know why the Eight-Armed Skeleton had become so powerful, nor how powerful it truly was, one thing was certain: it could definitely defeat Tinwood.
That meant he could sit back and watch the show.
"Hmph!"
The Lich Old Man curled his lips and shot Tinwood a sidelong glance.
Tinwood had barely recovered from the shock of losing an arm. His eyes flickered as he glanced at the Eight-Armed Skeleton, then at the Lich Old Man, and asked, "What is that thing?"
"This?" The Lich Old Man chuckled. "Nothing much. It's just my second helper. I hadn't planned on calling him in the first place. After all, I thought two against one would be enough. Any more would have been excessive.
"But now my first helper has let me down, so I had no choice but to let him step in and save the situation. What? Did having one of your arms blown off in a single strike scare you?"
By the end, the Lich Old Man's voice was dripping with sarcasm.
Tinwood frowned deeply and said heatedly, "You think I'd be afraid? Hmph, it's just a thing that doesn't even qualify as a low-level life form. At most, it's a Magic Puppet. What do I have to fear?"
"That's right, I did lose an arm," Tinwood said. "But that was mainly because I was careless and