The Golden-Winged Little Peng King had unleashed three forms of the Peng Race's supreme Saint Art-the Heavenly Demon Saint-Slaying Canon-yet Lu Chen had still gravely wounded him.
Now, horrific wounds covered his body, and the blood flowing from them stained his battle robes red. His eyes were filled with disbelief.
"This outcome... I will not lose!"
He roared in a low voice, madness rising in his eyes. Swaying, he straightened his burly frame, golden light blazing around him like raging flames.
In the distance, the spectators were utterly shaken. The Golden-Winged Little Peng was rumored to possess the bearing of a Great Emperor in his youth, yet Lu Chen had defeated him so brutally.
The outcome struck fear into many Holy Son-level prodigies. Their eyes flickered, their expressions strained. Even the Heavenly Demon Saint-Slaying Canon, an unrivaled Divine Art of the Demon Race, had been broken.
Among the younger generation's prodigies, only the Yaoguang Holy Son remained calm. Encircled by a hundred and eight dazzling rings of holy light, he stood in the air like a son of god, his thoughts impossible to fathom.
"Your strength cannot sustain your arrogance!" Lu Chen stood within a sea of stars, bathed in celestial radiance. Like a divine spirit of the starry sky, he quietly looked down upon the Golden-Winged Little Peng King.
"Heavenly Demon Saint-Slaying Canon, fourth form!"
At those words, the Golden-Winged Little Peng King grew even more unwilling to accept defeat. He glared and roared, his blood surging, terrifying Divine Power rolling like colossal waves and sweeping into the heavens. At that moment, he resembled a wounded demon lord.
He threw all caution aside. His source power boiled as he forced his gravely wounded body to unleash the Peng Race's supreme Saint Scripture. Whether it could slay his enemy remained