At first, Xize kept retreating, but in the end, he truly had nowhere left to retreat.
That was because Su Qiao's attacks were fierce, her movements agile, and the strength in her legs was astonishing.
Gradually, he forgot the promise he had made to the shaman and began taking the fight seriously.
But as soon as he got serious, Su Qiao's momentum suddenly became even more chilling. Her entire body was like a sharp bone blade, incomparably fierce.
Not only was she strong and agile, she also seemed capable of flying through the air. With a leap, she could actually spin three hundred and sixty degrees in midair.
Her legs were like whips—fast and ruthless. She could kick six or seven times in succession in midair without touching the ground.
And there was that strange blade in her hand. It was even sharper than his claws. Every time she got close, another wound would appear on his body.
The wounds were not deep, but they were long. With each slash, blood slowly soaked his entire chest and back, and two more cuts even appeared on his thighs.
Xize looked extremely disheveled.
He had defeated more than a dozen warriors from the tribe earlier, yet he had never looked this miserable.
Su Qiao, on the other hand, had nothing but a slightly flushed face and beads of sweat on her face, neck, and the parts not covered by her black vest. There was not a single wound on her body.
She was toying with Xize as if he were a monkey.
It was not that Xize had never tried to attack her. He had even thought of grabbing her, throwing her to the ground, and pinning her down until she admitted defeat.
However, she was like a water snake in the