Vast Zhou Devil Soul Smoke
The Misty Flying Sword neither swerved nor dodged. With a light, unhurried slash, it cut toward the blood-bat phantom. The sword itself barely moved. Only its shadow shot straight into the sky, cleaving the curtain of night and slicing through the watery moonlight before falling upon the blood-bat phantom's head.
The blood-bat phantom let out a piercing shriek and beat its wings frantically, trying to evade the towering sword shadow, but it could not escape.
With nowhere left to flee, the blood-bat phantom lunged at the sword shadow, claws and jaws outstretched. The shadow cleaved it from the void and sent it crashing down. Yet the phantom was ferocious beyond measure; it bit down on the sword shadow and fell with it, flattening a solitary peak thousands of feet tall and smashing a bottomless pit into the ground.
A low, hoarse growl came from within the pit, then gradually faded into silence.
By then, Kou Jing had already escaped a great distance. Still, seeing the blood-bat phantom he had formed with a forbidden art cut down by that mysterious flying sword behind him left him gasping in shock. He had spent thousands of years cultivating this art and sacrificed the lives of countless low-ranking members of his race to perform it, yet his opponent had broken through it with such ease.
Even so, the forbidden art had not been entirely useless. At the very least, it had delayed his pursuer long enough to give him a chance to escape. No matter how profound the other party's swordsmanship was, once he returned to his cave abode, Kou Jing was confident he could protect himself with the foundation he had built over the years and the support of his race.
"This late-stage Integrated Body old monster does