Xu Yan reached for the Storage Bag on the stone table when, suddenly, with a loud bang, the crimson Stone Coffin shattered and a blood-red hand stretched out from within, reaching for his wrist.
"Young man, to have killed Huo Tu and arrived here, you're quite exceptional. I'm in need of a blood meal!"
The cold voice followed.
Xu Yan's expression remained unchanged, as if he had anticipated this, and his reaching hand didn't retract but instead grabbed the Storage Bag. At the same time, his wrist was seized by the blood-red hand.
A strong, ghastly aura emanated from the blood-red palm.
The blood-red palm glowed with a faint hue of blood red, as though it would corrode flesh and refine the essence of blood for its consumption.
Xu Yan, with the Storage Bag in hand, flashed a cold light in his eyes, and sword light emerged on his wrist, forming a rotating sword wheel that latched onto the blood-red palm.
The sword wheel spun as if to slice off the blood-red hand.
"Eh!"
