The Wolflike Demon looked ancient and frail, but it was remarkably nimble. Its mind was even quicker than its movements.
Seeing Pan Long block its path and knowing it was too late to save the Wolf Demon, it did not hesitate. It turned into a gust of demonic wind and howled away without wasting so much as a second.
Pan Long stared after it, stunned by how readily it had fled.
The wolf and the bei had joined forces in villainy, their demonic auras linked as though they were one. Only together could they reach the Demon King realm. If they parted ways and their auras separated, they would immediately fall from that realm.
The Wolf Demon was another matter; it still looked young and strong. But the Wolflike Demon looked old. Falling from that realm would cost it years of life, and at its age, wouldn't that mean dying of old age in the blink of an eye?
How was that any different from being hacked to death?
Did demons care about leaving behind an "intact corpse"?
Or did this Wolflike Demon know countless Wolf Demons, with backup partners as plentiful as those of a legendary green-tea goddess—so many that scrolling through its WeChat contacts would take five minutes—and could find another sucker at any moment?
Neither possibility seemed plausible to Pan Long.
The first was absurd. The second was even more damn absurd!
Just as he was racking his brains, a warning flashed through his mind.
Before he could react, a force beyond imagination struck from behind and slammed into his back.
Pan Long went flying like a cannonball fired from a barrel. He hurtled over the Peach Blossom River and crashed into the fields on the far bank, plowing a deep furrow through the earth that stretched