The "drill charge" of old monster Spirt-Eroding Old Fiend's waning Nascent Soul life sent the Chaos Cauldron tumbling away like a glass marble kicked into a rushing sewer, clattering all the way through the churning, grayish-black turbid current.
The old fiend himself was battered to a pulp, several of his vines snapping. He thrashed about in the filthy waves for a long time before steadying himself, his face full of vine wrinkles so enraged they could pinch a mosquito to death (if he still had a face).
"Little thief!! I'm going to… *blech*…" The old fiend had just started to roar when a mouthful of the rolling turbid current's chaotic, muddy soup filled his mouth. It was fishy, astringent, and even more pungent than Shi Lei's rancid stew, making him roll his vine-like white eyes in fury (if he had any).
Chapter 562