Xingtian felt his scalp prickle as Duke's sinister gaze swept over him. Worse still, he could not discern Duke's depth at all, and his heart immediately sank. A bad feeling rose within him: even at full strength, he would have had trouble defeating Duke. Now that only his head remained, he was almost certainly doomed.
Xingtian stopped roaring pointlessly and asked Duke in a low voice, "Who exactly are you? Why have I never seen you among the Demon Clan in the past?"
Xingtian judged Duke's strength to be at least at the level of a Demon God. Even if he could not compare to the Golden Crow or Kunpeng, he was certainly far stronger than an ordinary Demon Saint. He should not have been so unknown.
"Little Xing, it hasn't even been that long, and you already don't recognize me? Back when you wore crotchless pants, I even flicked your little... Oh, right, you really don't know me!" Duke laughed at his own words, shook his somewhat schizophrenic head, and flicked out a streak of white light that split Xingtian's skull open.
A Great Witch's body was incomparably tough, and its self-healing ability was also first-rate. Xingtian's skull had barely been split open before it healed in the blink of an eye. He did not care about such a minor wound, but his face turned deathly pale as twelve drops of Essence Blood were stolen from him, causing his aura to fall several levels in succession.
"Demon, you're courting death!" Xingtian flew into a rage, his eyes crimson as though flames burned within them.
It was no wonder he was so furious. The Witch Clan did not cultivate primordial spirits; all their abilities lay in their flesh. Essence Blood was unlike ordinary blood. It contained the most fundamental power