滴答!
滴答!
The world was eerily silent.
But in this silence, the sound of blood dripping was shockingly loud.
"Not dead?"
At this moment, it was Lin Fan's turn to be surprised. He had fired a point-blank arrow that should have easily obliterated a head—no exaggeration, the guy was supposed to be dead without a doubt.
"Ah!"
This was not a scream of pain but a roar of fury that echoed through the heavens and earth.
Left Immortal was not dead, but on the brink of exploding with anger. His forehead was splattered with blood, and that last attack had inflicted unspeakably terrifying damage on him.
A relic emerged from the center of his brow, with a Buddha chanting scriptures, a Buddha Lotus blooming, and the surrounding world painted in the hues of Buddha Power, as if transformed into a miniature Western Pure Land.
"So it's this thing that saved his damn life," Lin Fan muttered to himself.
Left Immortal was drenched in cold sweat, secretly relieved he still had some tricks left.
