Wang Hao finished speaking and once again raised the Seven-Star God Sword, directly chopping at the other arm of the Changsheng (Long Life) Ancestor.
This time, it was even more direct; the other arm of Changsheng Ancestor was immediately severed and fell.
The Changsheng Ancestor's face was bloodless, pale as paper, eyes filled with deep resentment as he looked at Wang Hao.
If the Changsheng Ancestor's gaze could kill, Wang Hao might have been dismembered a million times over already.
"Anyway, I have plenty of time, I just don't believe you won't give up the antidote to the Zimo Ling (Purple Devil Feather).
"You little bastard, if you have the ability, kill me with one sword stroke, what kind of hero tortures me like this?"
The Changsheng Ancestor spoke weakly, his voice unable to hide his frailty.
"Killing you with one sword stroke, wouldn't that be too easy for you?"
"Before, I would have agreed to your request if you handed over the antidote to the Zimo Ling poison,"
