Chills ran down the God of War's back, as if the girl who got up again was the devil crawling out of hell. However, there was no trace of fear on his face, just an undetectable relief.
There were goosebumps on his back, and every nerve in the body was tensed, transmitting signals to his brain to retreat.
The wind raged, as San Wu's hair whipped around in the wind and her clothes billowed. That was a storm generated from the qi around her body, as ever-powerful jets of qi spewed from her pores.
If she dyed her hair white, the girl in front of him who had a hurricane raging around her could play the role of the white-haired witch. No one was more suitable than her.
No, she was colder than the white-haired witch. The brutal tide of violence in her red pupil faded and was replaced by a deep, cold water. She abandoned her feelings, her emotions and joys, and became a real, cold and emotionless weapon.
"It worked…" God of War muttered.
