"Roar—"
Shen Le swore he had never heard such a shrill, miserable roar in his life. It was utterly tragic.
The demonic beast beneath him bounced as though it had gone mad. With every leap, black blood mixed with vast amounts of filth sprayed out in torrents, splattering everywhere ahead.
Even though Shen Le desperately held his breath to avoid inhaling even a trace of the foul miasma, his throat, chest, and every patch of exposed skin still burned with searing pain.
What kind of trash monster was this?!
Its corrosiveness was way too strong!
Or had that thrust happened to hit exactly the right spot? Had one Thousand-Year Kill opened its sewage pipe and let it spray out all the filth it had accumulated over a thousand years...
Shen Le clung tightly to the beast's back, both hands gripping the sword hilt as he struggled to keep himself steady. But the beast leaped higher and higher, more and more violently, its back nearly slamming into the ceiling—
No, not "nearly." It had already hit it! Shen Le desperately rolled to one side and fell to the ground. Immediately afterward, he heard an earth-shaking boom:
"BOOM!!!"
The beams overhead creaked and groaned, on the verge of snapping. Dust, dirt, flakes of paint, and all manner of ornaments rained chaotically from the roof.
Shen Le felt his chest churn, as if he were about to cough up blood. His vision went black in waves, and he could barely see anything at all.
The back of his hand hurt terribly. When he reached up to wipe it, he found it torn open and mangled, as though several strips of muscle—or at least several patches of skin—had been scraped away!
Damn it, what species was this demonic beast? What kind of ability