In the storm of condensed leaves, a splash of fresh blood erupted.
The series of blood pearls flew out, were sliced by the wind blades and leaves in the air, and instantly shattered into fine blood grains, followed by the high-speed exploding air stream evaporating them into a bloody mist.
Within the "Time Slow" domain, this scene did not appear bloody, on the contrary, it had a morbid beauty.
Blood scattered like agate.
Life passed away like withered leaves.
Standing in the midst of the storm, the woman controlling thousands of withered leaves watched emotionlessly as the curly-haired young man was "slowly" sliced by millions of withered leaves.
The death that should have been swift from being slashed by countless leaves.
But Chen Mei's survival instinct had turned this into a prolonged, miserable carnage.
"Why… why?"
