It was dark blue liquid-or, more precisely, Dragon Blood.
Vast sheets of Dragon Blood, enormous quantities of it, poured down like a waterfall, engulfing the Immortal Lord's ruined body.
Ming Qitian was already wounded. Though she had poured all her strength into this thrust, she still could not break through the torrent. Gritting her teeth, she braced against the end of the sword's hilt and pushed forward with all her might, white True Qi bursting open like a lotus.
Yet the sword advanced not an inch. Instead, something surged within the waterfall, and in an instant, the boiling Dragon Blood blasted her away.
Ming Qitian staggered two steps beside Black Cat before steadying herself. She raised her head, and together they watched the vast spectacle that sent their hearts plunging to the bottom of a ravine.
It was the living creatures in the city that the Dragon Saliva Rain had corroded.
Cats, dogs, pigs, cattle, donkeys, horses... and people, of course.
A grand feast.
The Immortal Lord's ruined body was like a bottomless pit, swallowing all the cascading Dragon Blood. At the same time, his feeble aura climbed steadily. Though he was still far from his peak, he was no longer someone Ming Qitian could contend with.
Only one final heart-slaying strike remained.
However powerful his body became, with his Divine Seed destroyed, his consciousness had nowhere to restore itself.
Within this reconstructed body, that wisp of consciousness surely still flickered as frailly as a candle in the wind.
Just one strike!
But before the Dragon Body, powerful once more, who could deliver that final strike?
"I will."
An aged voice spoke.
Ming Qitian turned her head. A withered, shrunken hand settled on her shoulder.
It was not resting there, but supporting him. His entire body seemed about to crumple.