But in a flash, he had already knocked off another third of Shakyamuni's blood bar from above his head compared to before, and instantly saw that this spooky, fake-god powerhouse wasn't unscathed after all.
Crackle!—
The Divine Tail behind him, radiating Golden Light, flickered once like a crooked bolt of lightning, abruptly extending to lash at Shakyamuni's head on the opposite side.
Shakyamuni let out a strange laugh, his gaze shooting out a mocking look that made Jiang Dali's nameless fire flare up. He let his head be struck by the crooked lightning, and the blood bar above his head only trembled slightly before his entire head bizarrely exploded into fine powder, as if it wasn't made of flesh and blood, but a chunk of plaster or glass.
"Just what Martial Arts is this!?"
Jiang Dali's pupils shrank sharply.
At that very moment, sword rain suddenly flashed down from above like streaks of white light, erupting with a deafening boom.
