"Waaah, charge, charge, overthrow them and let rivers of blood flow!"
The ice mountains crisscrossed, and cold mist filled the canyons.
The tips of grass and leaves were all covered with a layer of transparent ice shells. A thousand-foot White Dragon coiled around the ice mountain, its claws pressing down on the Southern Frontier Zenith, head hanging low as it exhaled mist. From the white mist burst eight Fat Catfishes, two each grasping a large iron saw, pushing and pulling, sawing apart the limbs of the Grandmaster.
"Ah!!! Demon! Die!"
Bang!
The smoke exploded and scattered.
The thousand-foot White Dragon shrank to three feet, a cold light flashing towards an empty spot behind it, plowing through the ground for half a mile. The Little Shen Dragon easily dodged, darting and weaving, landing back at Long Eying's waist, making a face.
Ice thorns and caltrops, flesh and blood intertwined.
