The palm-sized shutters clapped together, emitting a colossal clang akin to metal striking metal, and flattened the blood curtain, releasing a wisp of corrosive blood fiend vapor eating away at the flesh.
Disguised as a giant, Tang Luo murmured in admiration, "What a fine movement technique." Instantly he spread his clasped hands apart, yet Wang Han's figure was nowhere to be seen within; only a crimson short blade, like a roaming dragon, flew back to the hands of the warrior who stood proudly in the void.
Receiving the short blade named Underworld, Wang Han, who had escaped from the clasped hands, was no longer as carefree as before; not to mention the large hole piercing through his chest, both of his shoulders and upper arms were severely corroded by the blood fiend, revealing the underlying muscles and bones. However, the battle spirit of the injured Wang Clan's Saint Child remained as high-spirited as ever, earning him onlookers' respect.
