The Indian Snake King looked at the God Butcher with some confusion, but a deep sense of unease blossomed in his heart. Despite the God Butcher seemingly being at his last breath, why did he still invoke such a feeling of disquiet?
"Ah!" Suddenly, a cold gleam flashed, and the Indian Snake King felt a heart-piercing pain in his left arm.
Then, a spray of blood burst forth—his left arm had actually been severed cleanly from his body!
"No, impossible! How could you possibly!" The Snake King, in agony, clutched his left arm, his gaze filled with venomous resentment toward the God Butcher.
The cold gleam flew to the God Butcher's side, and he grasped it, flying off with the Indian Snake King's left arm towards the outskirts of the jungle.
"Chase him, chase him! I want him dead, I want him to suffer a fate worse than death!" Just as the Snake King barked this order, his body shuddered, and he collapsed onto the head of Black Mamba.
