The sword fell!
The lightning ball dissipated as if it had never appeared. There was no trace of lightning left. The iron sword did not slow down and continued to slash down, landing on Zhu Jiuzhen's dragon mouth.
As a Torch Dragon, he had a strong physical body and the support of true essence. Even if he was facing someone with profound cultivation, he could still withstand it. However, in front of this ordinary sword, it was simply not enough.
The dragon's eyes widened, and its consciousness froze at this moment. The scene before its eyes became the last scene. The dragon's head split into two, and countless dragon blood fell.
"This is good stuff," Daoist Master Sword Qi felt his heart ache.
He pointed his finger.
True essence rushed out and transformed into a large net that enveloped them. Then, he collected the falling dragon blood and placed it into the Sumeru Bag. Only then did he feel relieved.
