Clad in the Giant Whale Saint Armor, Li Xiang traversed the Bloody Swamp in the middle of a downpour. With the Divine Movement Technique active, he was as light as a feather, and the treacherous environment could not impede his composed and dashing advance.
His combat boots crushed rotten leaves as mud squirted from the cracks between gnarled tree roots. Twenty-three mucus-covered anacondas, each about five meters long, were tearing at the corpse of a jaguar. The sound of their scales scraping against each other was like rusty gears, exceptionally grating.
'He'd never been a fan of snakes. Beautiful snake women, of course, were a different story.'
SWISH SWISH SWISH! His upgraded Cold Ice Sword Qi swept out like a storm of frost blades. Twenty-three streams of sharp energy precisely sniped the head of each anaconda.
