And that Jiuguo was in no better shape either. Its once razor-sharp, stiff bristles were now stained with mottled patches of blood, and its entire body was covered in varying depths of slash marks left by the Tang Dao.
With each heavy, slightly trembling breath it drew, it betrayed the deep-seated wariness and terror it felt in its heart toward this seemingly frail man.
Clearly, it had already accepted the gift-like power bestowed by that lord, and was now a Cholera-grade anomaly—it should have been invincible in the face of such lower life forms.
Chapter 17