An immeasurable torrent of Supreme blood churned through the starry sky.
Flowing Cloud Saint Lord's pale pink lips were stained crimson with blood, and a fierce, bloodthirsty delight flowed through her phoenix eyes.
The Heavenly Dao Alliance had twelve Supremes. Though they outnumbered the Samsara Hall, they were at a disadvantage once battle began.
The only one who could hold Flowing Cloud Saint Lord back for a time was the middle-aged Daoist, but his strength was clearly a cut below hers. He was forced onto the defensive, while she still had strength to spare between exchanges, pressuring the other Supremes.
After days of fighting, three Supremes of the Heavenly Dao Alliance had died at Flowing Cloud Saint Lord's hands, and four more had suffered grievous injuries.
Of the four Supremes on the Samsara Hall's side, all but Cloud Saint were also badly wounded. During the fighting, Flowing Cloud Saint Lord had clearly shown Cloud Saint special care, helping him weather many crises.
"Daoist, I see your primordial yang remains intact, and your blood qi is sacred and unyielding. You do have some flavor. Why not surrender? I can let the others go. What do you say?"
Flowing Cloud Saint Lord chuckled softly as she gazed at the middle-aged Daoist. A hint of crimson flickered in her eyes, their greed like blood-red jade amber.
The middle-aged Daoist lowered his eyelids and sat cross-legged in the starry sky, his expression as still as an ancient well. Of the six Daoist banners circling him, three were already damaged, and cracks had appeared in the rest. They were on the verge of breaking.
Boom!
A sudden burst of blood rain erupted in the starry sky. Another Supreme had fallen. Gravely wounded and unable to resist, he had been slain by Cloud Saint with a