The Twenty-Three Swords cut essences.
Though the Golden-Winged Roc was no Primordial Spirit, its spirit and mind were destroyed by Jiang He with a single swing of his sword, and it certainly could not be deader now.
Its colossal body dropped out of the skies and smashed into the ground with a bang, causing the earth to tremble.
That was when Jiang He, still standing up in the air suddenly felt something, and looked up towards the distant horizon.
A distant cloud that had been quietly hanging there since the start of the battle abruptly turned into steam and smoke as it dispersed, as if it had never been there.
Jiang He frowned subtly. Was someone spying on him?
No, it might not even be human.
Jiang He could not help remembering the Golden-Winged Roc's cries for help as death loomed…
The Dragoncroc Emperor?
