In an instant, the demon's body went rigid. At that very moment, dozens of Yellow Talismans that had been knocked flying earlier suddenly burst into flame by themselves. Dozens of tiny bolts of lightning fell in succession, striking the demon squarely on the forehead.
The demon's pupils slowly dilated. Even in death, his eyes were fixed on the Wooden Sword he was reaching for.
Huang Zhiji wiped the sweat from his forehead. He gave two more stabs for good measure, added a few more Thunder Talismans, and finally relaxed.
He pulled out his own Wooden Sword and checked the hilt: still three-fourths full of electricity. He'd have to get someone to tweak it later.
He looked at the demon who had dropped dead on the ground and let out a cold laugh.
What era do we live in? You really think a Maoshan Sect Disciple only knows how to use a peachwood sword?
