The headless body twitched slightly on the ground.
Its thick arms, sharp claws, and the layer of fine scales covering its skin all proclaimed its noble status.
The red-horned, golden-maned Flood Dragon was the overlord of the Heng River.
Behind the surname Deng stood countless powerhouses; with a single stomp of their feet, the entire Heng River would tremble.
Yet now, Lin Shu had shattered its noble red horns with a single punch and burned away its golden mane with his blood qi.
"Marshal Deng—"
Song Qinghe had already prepared himself to negotiate with Lin Shu, even willing to set aside the dignity of the Cangming Guard and reluctantly make some concessions.
Such as watching these bandits escape far away, until a certain distance where both sides would resume their contest.
Who told the commander to be so utterly useless?
No one dared to bear the wrath of Madam Deng.
However, what Song Qinghe never expected was that before negotiations even began, that young demon king had personally crushed the only "bargaining chip" in his hands.
"You know, his life was also your only path to survival."
Song Qinghe slowly stepped forward, his entire split face gradually turning expressionless as he let the blood plasma run wild.
Of course, not just Lin Shu—that was likely their only path to survival as well.
Things had come to this, and there was nothing left to say. The moment the youth threw his punch, the lives of everyone present no longer belonged to them, falling instead into the whim of Madam Deng.
If they captured this flock of wicked beasts and brought them back to appease that woman's fury, then for the sake of the royal scion, he and the others might still have a glimmer of survival.
"Kill!!"
Song Qinghe's lips split