"Now you know why I'm called the Grim Reaper!" Liu Chen walked up to King Yan, smiled with a grimace, showing his ghastly white teeth, and made King Yan's heart skip a beat.
He finally understood that he was no match for his opponent at all; his earlier escape under the assault of his own Soft Sword was just a performance, a way to toy with him. Now that the opponent had had enough, he would naturally kill him.
"Heh, to die under the Grim Reaper's scythe, even I, King Yan, think it's a worthwhile end to a lifetime..." King Yan lowered his head and swept his gaze over his broken arm, his eyes dim, as if he had given up struggling.
"Yes, indeed, you're not at a loss. Your Soft Sword hasn't tasted blood for a long time, and neither has my scythe!" Liu Chen chuckled and stroked his scythe as he spoke.
"Enough of the nonsense, I know you won't let me go, so just kill me and make it quick!" King Yan suddenly raised his head, exposing his neck, ready to embrace his death.
