"Heh, cut the crap and die!"
Tang San's face twisted into an almost savage grimace beneath the dark red glow of the Asura Demon Sword.
At this point, he had cast all dignity and composure to the winds.
He had spent the past two years struggling through the hellish Slaughter City for this very day, for the chance to cut off Fang Fan's head with his own hands and offer it to his father's spirit in heaven.
He refused to believe that the Asura Slash he had trained in for two years could not harm a single hair on Fang Fan's head, that a divine skill personally taught by the Asura God King could be crushed between two fingers as though it were made of paper.
There had to be some trick behind what had just happened—perhaps Fang Fan had put some soul tool on his hand beforehand, or perhaps that six-colored light had been nothing but a bluff.
This time, he would hold nothing back. He would pour every last bit of his soul power, killing intent, and hatred into this strike, leaving Fang Fan no chance even to defend himself.
He swung the Asura Demon Sword up, and all nine soul rings beneath his feet lit up at once. The four hundred-thousand-year god-given spirit rings bestowed by the Asura God King sent eerie, bloody light flowing across the dark red blade.
Asura Slash—a divine skill personally taught by the Asura God King, burning the wielder's own Asura killing intent in exchange for a devastating attack far beyond his limits.
As the sword swept down, the sky above the Competition Platform abruptly darkened, as though even the sun had recoiled before that killing intent.
Behind Tang San, an enormous dark red phantom slowly emerged—the manifestation of the Asura God