The Ink-Scaled Demon Tiger's movements grew slower and heavier.
The light in its pair of dark golden, vertical pupils dimmed.
It no longer dodged, no longer defended. It just attacked, attacked, and attacked again with wild abandon—as if pouring the last of its life force into the three humans before it.
Finally.
"PSHHH—!"
The ancient longsword in Gu Changqing's hand suddenly lit up. A pale cyan radiance flared as he slashed out.
This single strike condensed his entire life's comprehension of the Sword Dao.
The sword light, like a rainbow, pierced through the Ink-Scaled Demon Tiger's ferocious assault, sliced across its throat, and kicked up a spray of dark red, bloody mist.
"BOOM—!"
At almost the same instant, Hui Ming's Demon-Slaying Pestle smashed down on the Ink-Scaled Demon Tiger's head.
A brilliant golden light shone, like a full-force blow from a wrathful Vajra.
