"My name is Mourinho." Just at the moment when three blood blades shot across the sky, the two Xiangjun stood upright in the air, their large hooves acting as if bowing to Old Liu, with their horse faces covered in black scales displaying an unexpectedly humane simplicity and utmost seriousness.
With great ease, they shot three giant "Flame Missiles," the size of sea lion stones and exuding a sandalwood fragrance, from their nostrils. They collided precisely with the crescent-shaped blood blades flying across the sky. Before the splattering blood droplets could bloom like flowers, the "black hole domain" swirling like a smoker's fan had already enveloped the crimson elemental light waves against the pitch-black sky.
Liu Zhenhan left a long white comet trail in the air.
