The slaughter at the center had already reached its climax.
Li Su had lost count of how many times he had circulated the Blood Scripture and the Self-Severing Art. His flesh had been shattered by the shocks no fewer than a hundred times.
The Emerald True Dragon was incomparably ferocious, intent on pouncing on and killing him. It focused its attacks on his head and qi sea, seeking to shatter his golden core, sever his sea of consciousness, and kill him completely.
Several times, Li Su had nearly been cut clean in half while dodging.
Thankfully, the Blood Scripture's recovery was peerless, dragging him back from grievous injuries time and again.
Of course, the Emerald True Dragon was not faring well either. Li Su had likewise punched holes through its body. Even its incomparably sturdy scales, capable of withstanding magical treasure attacks, had been cracked and torn apart by repeated impacts.
Li Su had gouged more than a hundred massive holes into its body, each as wide as a water bucket; some had even pierced straight through. Fortunately, a true dragon's body was enormous—had it been a human, they would have exploded long ago.
The Emerald True Dragon roared. The tiny creature before it was utterly incomprehensible: that body, no bigger than an ant, had endured its attacks again and again without being pounded into pulp.
And the other party's attacks were the same—too painful, too heavy. It was as though what struck its body were not fists, but blades, spears, swords, and halberds—divine weapons sharp enough to cut it open. Not only did they blast out huge bloody craters, but the force within them continued to erupt. A moment's lapse, and it feared the holes would be far larger than water buckets.
It stared coldly at Li Su, the