The claw formed from the shadow twisted and struggled in Xiao Chenyuan's grip, like a small beast trapped in a cage.
With a sharp swipe, several bloody gashes appeared on the back of Xiao Chenyuan's hand. His gaze darkened, but his grip on the shadow remained unshaken.
The shadow also froze, like a child suddenly realizing they had done something wrong.
Just as the blood beads were about to drip from his wound, the shadow swiftly absorbed them in an instant. The wounds on Xiao Chenyuan's hand then healed at a visible speed.
The once-menacing claw of the shadow gradually shrank, shifting into a round, plump shape—like the soft paw pad of a large cat. Retracting its claws, it tentatively pressed against the back of Xiao Chenyuan's hand in a placating manner.
