Stars fill the sky.
Sword.
Returns to sheath.
Wu Xiaode stands on the rooftop of the abandoned hospital, looking up to see the stars in the sky extinguished one by one.
"Is it dead?"
He asked.
"It had help just now," the Sword Cultivator said.
"What a pity," Wu Xiaode sighed.
"No need for pity, that sword was just a greeting - I won't let it die so easily, it has many debts to repay, besides, how can it avoid the battlefield, climb the Holy Pillar alone, is also a strange thing," the Sword Cultivator said.
In the sky.
The U-level Evil Demon reappeared.
Half of its body turned into eternally falling gray quicksand, its expression filled with pain.
"Mend."
It growled lowly.
But the gray quicksand only moved slightly, unable to transform into its body and mend again.
It consecutively used seven or eight spell seals but could only maintain the state of the wound, preventing further expansion.
