Siqi, Xuantai Mountain, Yangming Temple, Daxiong Treasure Hall.
Accompanied by the sound of a sharp weapon slicing into flesh, Li Huowang watched as the dark-skinned monk before him was cleaved in two, the black fluid flowing out almost covering his face.
Sensing that the black fluid was amiss, the four tentacles propping Li Huowang up behind him swiftly pulled back, letting the fluid slide past his face by a hair's breadth.
"Heh..." Standing in the midst of the hall enveloped in evil Qi, Li Huowang slightly opened his mouth and slowly exhaled a mass of bloody energy from deep within his throat.
At this moment, although he had lost a hand, he was holding three swords and behind him lay a dense pile of monk corpses.
With a ferocious expression, Li Huowang glared with his bloodshot eyes at the distant Golden Buddha.
