The Death of Long Zhuo (Part One)

Even if Yuan Tian had severed his limbs, Long Zhuo should have been able to bear the pain. It would have been agonizing for anyone, and it hurt him to the bone, but he was still a Quasi-Sage. He was too proud to scream the way the Twelve Heavenly Guards had heard him scream.

And at first, that was exactly what happened. When Yuan Tian cut off his limbs, Long Zhuo merely grunted. He showed no other reaction, as though the severed limbs were not his own. Then he channeled his power to regrow them.

At their level of cultivation, losing limbs was nothing. Even losing their heads would have little effect. What mattered most were their Primordial Spirits and souls. As long as those remained unharmed, they could simply grow the rest back. What was there to worry about?

Of course, newly grown flesh could not be as strong as the bodies they had tempered over countless years. The difference was like that between a newborn's flesh and reinforced steel—and for the Dragon Clan, renowned for their powerful bodies, the gap was greater still.

Long Zhuo grunted, and four new limbs grew from his body. Clearly, severed arms and legs were no great matter to an expert like him. Regrowing them was easier than growing hair: hair took time, while new limbs appeared just like that.

In fact, Long Zhuo could have fought without regrowing them. But he was unaccustomed to fighting that way—as anyone would be—and without his limbs, he could not bring his full strength to bear.

Long Zhuo was already weaker than Yuan Tian. If he could not even use all his strength, how was he supposed to fight? Had he come to throw his life away, or to serve as Yuan Tian's sparring partner?

But