Amidst the swirling dust and clashing light, the aftershocks of the battle still raged.
The Eighteen-winged Angel slowly rose from the crater in the rock wall. The golden radiance of its body had dimmed considerably, and its once sacred, inviolable aura was now in disarray.
A flash of indignant fury flickered in its eyes. Gripping the Holy Sword tightly, it charged toward Chu He once more, preparing to launch a final counterattack.
Chu He, however, was fearless. He stood firm, his feet planted like a great tree rooted in the earth, his gaze locked resolutely on the Eighteen-winged Angel.
A powerful aura emanated from him, as if declaring to the Eighteen-winged Angel that he would be the one to win this fight.
As the Eighteen-winged Angel closed in, Chu He swiftly raised his hands, catching the downward swing of the Holy Sword between his bare palms.
A tremendous collision of power erupted. The surrounding air seemed to detonate, unleashing a series of deafening booms.
