Clang!
Kui Zhao mustered all his strength for a final kick, sending Le Yuxin flying two or three meters. Le Yuxin tumbled across the ground several times, leaving a trail of blood in her wake.
In Kui Zhao's last move—the Wolf Eagle Fist—crimson blasts of energy tore Le Yuxin's flesh apart in all directions. Now, there was barely a patch of undamaged skin on her body. Her clothes, bloody flesh, and dirt were all mashed together, as if she had been tossed into a washer lined with razor blades. Even for making human barbecue buns, this meat would be considered poor quality.
But Kui Zhao was in an even worse state.
He couldn't stop staggering backward, cold sweat pouring down his face as he stared at the hollow in his chest and abdomen. His hands emitted a useless green healing glow, desperately plastering it onto his wound as if trying to plug the gap with glue.
