The Eerie General floated in midair, wielding the Black Gold Bone Blade. A series of broad, sweeping blade techniques poured forth like a raging storm.
Slash.
Ten roots.
A hundred.
A thousand.
The roots swarming him were severed one after another. Sap gushing from the cuts stained his entire spirit body dark red.
But there were countless roots. Even after he severed ten, a hundred, a thousand, there were still ten thousand, a hundred thousand, a million waiting for him.
The Eerie General's spirit body grew increasingly transparent, increasingly insubstantial.
Although his spirit body had been forged in the Thousand-Hammer, Hundred-Refinement Furnace and could absorb blood moon energy to restore itself, even the energy he had accumulated over all this time was not enough to sustain him through a battle this intense.
The roots' attacks grew fiercer and denser.
The Eerie General's form had faded to a wisp of smoke that might disperse at any moment.
In just a little while, he would be forced to return to the Black Gold Bone Blade.
Yang Yong did not hesitate.
The instant he caught Wang Ying, he turned his palm over, conjuring a blade of fire.
Its edge glimmered dark red in the dim light, aimed straight at Wang Ying's chest.
He thrust it down.
The fire blade did not even need to strike Wang Ying. The moment Yang Yong showed that he was about to stab her in the chest,
the instincts Wang Ying had honed with blood and her life in the apocalypse erupted.
Her eyes snapped open, and one hand seized Yang Yong's wrist like lightning. Her knuckles whitened, her grip so powerful it nearly crushed the bones in his wrist.
A trace of confusion lingered in her eyes, as though she had just been forcibly dragged out of