The red falcon was struck by a streak of azure light, and things immediately looked bad.
There was no telling what cultivation level the Daoist below possessed or what means he had used, but one thing was certain: the gap was too great. There was no ability to resist whatsoever.
"If you want to fight, then fight. Why did you have to make such a racket? Couldn't you keep your beak shut?"
Hou Niao sighed. That streak of azure light had not been aimed at him, though that did not necessarily mean he had been spared because they were both human. It was simply that this stupid bird had made far too much of a commotion, far too much noise.
Seeing the red falcon's breath fading and its body slipping beyond its control, he thought it would be a shame to waste all those feathers. He reached out and caught it by the neck.
Once he had it in hand, he discovered that this stupid bird was not quite dead yet. The Demon Beast's formidable body had retained a thread of life despite such grievous injuries. Instinctively, however, it had shut down all external awareness, leaving only its body's inner workings to contend with the power of that azure light.
If he put the red falcon into the Spirit Beast Bag now, cutting off its contact with heaven and earth, it would undoubtedly die.
He shook his head, holding the red falcon as he hesitated. Perhaps it would be better to see whether it could pull through?
Over their months together, though they had fought tooth and nail every day, he had gained a new understanding of this red falcon. It was no ordinary core-stage red falcon, but a Thunder Falcon, a rather special variety among red falcons, with an