A spray of blood erupted, drenching Li Huowang from head to toe. He stood there like a man made of blood, staring dumbly at the mangled corpse before him.
And just like that, Han Fu—the Taoist who tried to rob and kill him, a lingering threat from the Luo Sect who had attempted an ambush—was dealt with.
For a moment, Li Huowang could hardly believe it. Compared to the enemies he had faced before, this one was no challenge at all; it was almost like child's play. He even began to wonder if this was some kind of decoy body.
Li Huowang lifted his foot and kicked Han Fu's pulpy, blood-smeared head, repeating with disgust, "You don't even know your own limits, yet you think you can rob people?"
He suddenly understood. In this world, it wasn't just the powerful who coveted Xinsu; some overconfident fools coveted it too, even if they lacked the ability to back it up.
