"Monsters can only save themselves."
The scorpion tail, sharp as a sword, pierced into Qianhu's shoulder. It wasn't a merciful act, but rather, Qianhu's last desperate struggle to twist his body and evade the fatal blow.
Confusion and rage surfaced in Zuo Wuyong's eyes, he couldn't understand why his own "thought," a Heart Demon that shouldn't exist, was stubbornly resisting till the end.
How could a monster that has made killing and betrayal its very essence ever wash away its sins because of a ludicrous "Heart Demon" and become a good person?
Am I crazy?
It seemed as if he was venting the rage in his heart, or perhaps beginning to feel something akin to doubt. Zuo Wuyong's massive pincers smashed down heavily on Qianhu's arm, crushing the sturdy limb to pieces.
Qianhu didn't scream in agony, he just clenched his teeth and grunted, his left hand wielding the Embroidered Spring Knife instinctively slashing out, but it merely left a faint scratch on the scorpion's claws.
