As it turned out, a difficult personality wasn't the problem—a lack of patience was. The Roc Demon King was indeed proud and prickly, and he certainly held grudges, but he had one enormous weakness: he had no patience.
At first, he had kept attacking Shen Bing in a fury, feeling an immense rush of satisfaction every time he killed him.
But after he killed his opponent over and over, only for the man to inexplicably reappear without seeming to have lost a thing, the thrill of the kill gradually faded.
Never mind the Roc Demon King—even a demon lord who lived for slaughter would have grown sick of this situation.
This was like a wad of sticky candy he couldn't shake off or chew through! The most fucking maddening part was that the candy had gone rotten, making him sick!
Over the course of half a day, the Roc Demon King killed Shen Bing nearly ten times. Each kill took more stamina than the last, until he barely had the strength to stay airborne.
What was the Roc Demon King supposed to do under those circumstances?
"Who on earth are you?" The Roc Demon King's voice was almost tearful.
He seriously wondered whether he had picked an unlucky day to leave home. What had he done to deserve running into such a persistent bastard...?
Shen Bing remained as relaxed and dashing as ever, as though the person who had just been killed wasn't him at all.
"You're not very bright, are you, Roc Demon King? Didn't this immortal already tell you? I am the Mist-Ethereal Adept..."
The Roc Demon King immediately stopped him from repeating that line. He had already heard it more fucking times than he could count! He would stake anything on those words being complete bullshit.
"Fine!