Fierce Battle

Purr looked at John Truss coldly, his eyes full of disdain.

Seeing his opponent brandishing the broken Longsword and attacking him again, he couldn't help but smirk.

He couldn't help but sneer, "Kid, are you out of your mind?"

Your perfectly intact sword is like a child's toy to me, posing no threat whatsoever.

Now you actually dare to fight me with this broken sword? Do you really think this broken sword can defeat me?

That's utterly ridiculous!

As he spoke, he exerted force with both hands, and the two black scythes in his hands were once again swung at a tricky angle. The black, cold light was like a serpent, twisting and Strangulation at the half-broken sword in John Truss's hand.

Just as John Truss was about to snap the sword in his hand, a sudden change occurred.

John Truss grinned maliciously and quickly pressed a spot on the hilt of the broken sword.

In an instant, the gap in the broken sword suddenly shone brightly, and a dazzling blue light burst forth like a small sun.

Immediately afterwards, a small sword shot out from the light, its speed as fast as a shooting star chasing the moon.

The light was so intense that it was hard to open one's eyes.

Purr was caught off guard by this sudden turn of events, and a hint of panic flashed in his eyes.

In a panic, he hurriedly withdrew his attacking scythe and tried to parry the sudden sword strike.

However, the distance was too close, and the small sword was too fast; his movements were still a beat too slow.

The sword, like an arrow released from a bow, hurtled towards his chest.

This startled Purr so much that he felt the aura of death instantly envelop him.

At this critical moment, Purr suddenly shifted his body to the side, trying his best to dodge this deadly move.

But the sword was too fast, and even though he reacted as quickly as possible, he still couldn't completely dodge it.

The sword pierced his shoulder, blood gushed out like a fountain, and waves of excruciating pain instantly followed.

The pain surged like a tidal wave, assaulting his nerves in wave after wave.

Purr felt like he could barely hold onto the sickle in his hand; his face turned pale, and large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.

Ah--

Damn it, why does it hurt so much?

Damn it, I'm injured!

Purr quickly retreated more than ten meters before regaining his balance.

He quickly reached out and pressed hard on the bleeding shoulder, trying to slow the bleeding, but blood continued to seep out from between his fingers.

In desperation, he tore off a piece of his shirt and used it to tightly wrap around his shoulder, round and round, until the wound was completely covered.

He knew that if he didn't do this, he would lose too much blood and become too weak to continue the fight.

Even after treating his wounds, Purr's face remained deathly pale. He gritted his teeth and then reached into his pocket for a bottle of blood-red potion.

The potion shimmered with an eerie light under the sunlight, as if it contained a mysterious power.

Pour the medicine into your mouth and swallow it in one gulp.

Instantly, a strong fishy smell filled my mouth.

The medicine flowed down his throat, burning wherever it went. The wound on his shoulder felt like it was being stabbed by countless steel needles. The excruciating pain made his eyebrows twitch constantly, his face contorted in agony, and he grimaced repeatedly.

After a few breaths, the intense pain gradually subsided, the blood from the wound on my shoulder stopped flowing, and new flesh seemed to be slowly growing inside, with a tendency to form a scab.

John Truss stood not far away, and seeing that his unexpected move had worked, a sinister smile appeared on his face.

The smile spread across his face, like a ghost in the night, exuding a chilling aura.

He shouted triumphantly at Purr, "Purr, I advise you to admit defeat, or I'm afraid you'll bleed to death!"

You're already at your limit, why bother struggling in vain?

"Hehe."

Purr sneered twice and said, "You're dreaming if you think I'll surrender!"

At this moment, his eyes were burning with the flames of anger.

With another raise of his hand, the black box on his back suddenly trembled slightly, and then two more scythes flew out.

The moment these two scythes appeared, they emitted bursts of cold light.

They didn't fall into Purr's hands as usual; instead, they appeared out of thin air in front of him, hovering there quietly, as if waiting for their master's command.

A hint of ferocity flashed in Purr's eyes as he coldly said, "Very well, since you've managed to hurt me, this battle can end now."

Today, you must pay the price!

The next moment, Purr swung his hands violently, throwing the two scythes he Central Plains been holding into the air.

The four sickles quickly gathered in the air, forming a giant swastika.

It was as if a demon in the darkness had opened its eyes, exuding a chilling aura.

Immediately afterwards, the swastika-shaped sickle began to spin rapidly, each rotation bringing with it gusts of black air.

The black aura, like a roaring Black Dragon, swirled wildly around the scythe, seemingly carrying boundless killing intent. The surrounding air also appeared to be distorted by this powerful force.

After spinning for a moment, the four scythes, carrying an aura of annihilation, Strangulation swiftly towards John Truss like black lightning.

It moved so fast that it left only a black afterimage in the air.

Upon seeing this, John Truss's expression changed slightly. He dared not be careless in the slightest and quickly raised his broken sword to parry.

As the rapidly spinning black scythe hurtled towards him, he focused all his attention, his eyes fixed on the swastika-shaped scythe frame. He swung his broken sword sharply, colliding with the incoming scythe.

With a loud clang, sparks flew everywhere, and the powerful impact made his arm go numb.

Suddenly, just as he was locked in a stalemate with one of the scythes, the other three scythes suddenly disintegrated, transforming into three black streaks of light that slashed at his body in a triangular pattern.

John Truss was shocked. He tried to move his body as fast as he could to dodge, but the three streaks of light were simply too fast.

Even with his incredibly fast hand speed, he still couldn't completely dodge it.

One of the scythes, like the Grim Reaper's scythe, easily broke through his defenses, cutting a long wound in his chest.

Blood gushed out instantly, staining his clothes red.

Ah--

John Truss let out a scream, quickly treated and bandaged his wound, and then took out a bottle of green liquid and poured it into his mouth.

The next moment, a layer of green light appeared around the wound, the bleeding gradually stopped, and the injury gradually healed.