In the void, Chen Pingchuan beckoned lightly, and Belia's Backstabbing Blade materialized in his palm. His gaze was like a torch, firmly locked on Jiang Fulong's right arm. Then, he abruptly exerted force. With a sharp SWOOSH, the blade rose and fell, streaking across the night sky like a glint of cold light.
In that instant, a still-warm right arm was severed. The cut was perfectly smooth, without the slightest hint of resistance.
The powerful force, carrying a fierce gust of wind, didn't stop. It surged forward like a raging wave. The impact even split the bed Jiang Fulong was lying on in two with a loud crash, sending splinters of wood and shreds of fabric flying everywhere.
"AH! AH! AH!"
Jiang Fulong immediately let out a heart-wrenching scream of agony. His voice pierced the silence of the room like a sharp arrow, threatening to burst through the walls and spread outside.
