A metallic hum seemed to ring in the air as Li Ang watched the scene in silence.
The Little Black Dog had its teeth sunk into Wu Zhangkong's shoulder, but a far greater force had already begun to surge around Wu Zhangkong.
Wu Zhangkong twisted sharply to the side and thrust the Frost Sword upward. A terrifying flash of cold light burst forth, sending the Little Black Dog flying. It slammed hard into the ground nearby, a huge wound now gaping across its body.
But thanks to the Emerald Swan bloodline, the Little Black Dog's body began healing at a rapid pace.
Watching this, Wu Zhangkong's eyes filled with shock. He knew that the strike he had just landed was no weak attack. Its power had been comparable to a Six-Ring Soul Emperor's full-force blow. Yet it had failed to seriously injure this little Soul Spirit—not even to wound it badly.
Even more astonishing was that this Soul Spirit had a physical body, making it no different from an ordinary summoned beast or Soul Beast.
Wu Zhangkong fixed his gaze on Li Ang, but Li Ang paid him no attention.
With a slight lift of Li Ang's hand, the Little Butterfly, which had been motionless until then, suddenly took flight.
When the little butterfly beside Li Ang vanished from sight, Wu Zhangkong's calm expression finally disappeared.
He had treated the two Soul Beasts dismissively, or rather, hadn't thought much of them. He hadn't even given Li Ang much importance. But now, after witnessing the Little Black Dog's terrifying resilience—or, more accurately, its strength—Wu Zhangkong was on high alert.
As he pondered this, a sudden pain struck his waist. To his astonishment, his Battle Armor had been slashed open, and beads of blood began to appear on his skin.
The temperature