Zhao Si watched the Godskin Noble, who had yet to breathe his last. Not daring to show his exhaustion, he propped himself up on his sword and forced himself to stay alert against a counterattack.
These ancient creatures were far too tenacious. Even with a gaping hole in his belly and flesh and entrails spilling all over the floor, he still had not died.
An ordinary person would have died from blood loss, if not from the pain.
Yet the Godskin Noble's eyes still moved, and he even struggled to make a sound. "Same source... Black Flame..."
The [Black Flame Protection] within his body continued to work as usual, resisting the invading Ghostflame and Black Flame.
But as one side grew stronger and the other weaker, the Godskin Noble's protection dwindled, and his life rapidly slipped away.
Death. The Godskin Noble had delivered this cold, lonely sensation to many gods, but he had never imagined he would taste it himself today.
Zhao Si heard the Godskin Noble's voice but did not answer. He dared neither speak nor move, clenching the Glintstone Bullet between his back teeth to force himself to stay calm.
"Why...?" the Godskin Noble asked without context, leaving it unclear what exactly he meant.
There were far too many things he could have been asking about: where Zhao Si's power had come from, why they were killing each other despite sharing the same source, and so on.
But the Godskin Noble would never receive an answer, because all that answered him was a cold blade.
Zhao Si seized the time to catch his breath and recover his strength, then swung the knight's greatsword and chopped off the Godskin Noble's enormous head.
The round head rolled beneath a chair. The headless corpse would never rise again, and its soul