Beneath the resplendent starry sky, stars scattered like silver radiance.
Chi Huo's body shuddered, the golden blood inside him reversed flow as his severed palm was resurrected, swiftly regenerating.
Filled with rage, he stood in the void, his eyes cold and harsh as he shouted at the Ancestor of the Desolate, "Pretty boy, I bet it's you who's going to die! I think you should just come over and let me do the killing!"
The meaning in Chi Huo's words was clear: Thinking that I'll die? Impossible!
"Good, you've got guts! I'll come over and let you kill me, let's see if you've got what it takes!" The Ancestor of the Desolate's face suddenly sank, murder intent all over, as he stepped forward and charged.
"I know your cultivation is above mine! But, I believe I can kill you despite that! Die!"
