On the other side.
Li Changzhou instantly pounced within five meters of the Drunkard, with the Black Death God floating behind him, raising the huge White Bone Scythe.
The pale scythe, moving too fast, sliced toward the Drunkard like moonlight turned into a ribbon.
The Drunkard, as if drunk with fury and fearlessness, lifted his enormous arms that could station a horse, reaching for the scythe with his left hand and punching toward Li Changzhou with his right.
"Hiss——"
In the roar of rage, the sound of rain, and the whistle of the punch, this burning sound was insignificant.
The scythe glided over much like it was cutting across the surface of water, slicing through the Drunkard's left arm.
The Drunkard's left arm fell limply, like a noodle, making a 'pat' when it hit the side of his body.
The Drunkard felt nothing, his body reeking of alcohol, which infused into the punch he threw at Li Changzhou, his massive fist shredding through the air.
