Magma surged.
The immortal serpent's upper body emerged from the magma, with a human hand on each side of its body, the right hand clutching a bloody greatsword that squirmed with fleshy sprouts.
In place of a serpentine head, there was a human face, which regarded Xi Mu and the little mare with cold detachment, slowly speaking out:
"Sleipnir, this era... has changed."
At this moment, he had to admit a fact: it was indeed possible that he might be killed, so he must eliminate any adverse factors.
The dwarves and humans swarming him did not concern him; as long as Sleipnir stayed out of the fight, the knight wielding the long spear would lose his ability for high-speed movement and thus become easy prey for slaughter.
Regarding this.
The little mare remained unmoved. She did not care about the immortal serpent's words. There was no harmony between monsters—contradiction existed in their very nature.
To become King of Monsters like Tifeng, devouring each other was only natural.
