Staring at the endless swarm of Strongarm Bull Devils charging toward him, Old Ox gritted his teeth and roared, "If I ever find out who you are, I'll tear you to pieces!"
A moment later, instead of retreating, Old Ox charged forward, his fists like twin iron hammers.
Bang! Bang!
Before those "iron hammers" even touched the Strongarm Bull Devils, dozens of them were sent flying, their bodies instantly dissolving into showers of light and vanishing into the air.
Old Ox had been tormented enough—he was ready to risk everything.
But the triangular-eyed Martial Saint, seeing the horde of Strongarm Bull Devils, turned and fled, lacking the courage to stand his ground.
The third Martial Saint fought while retreating, but the exhaustion on his face showed he couldn't last much longer.
In the blink of an eye, another hour passed.
By now, Old Ox had killed at least several thousand Strongarm Bull Devils. If they had been real, the ground would be littered with corpses.
But after an hour of fighting, less than ten percent of his true qi remained.
Suddenly, he cried out in pain as a Strongarm Bull Devil struck his chest and smashed him to the ground. He couldn't get up, looking completely spent.
Seeing this, Ian Song couldn't help but sneer. This guy was crafty—pretending to be exhausted, probably hoping to lure him out.
Too bad he picked the wrong target. Ian had Clairvoyant Vision—he could see at a glance whether Old Ox still had true qi, so there was no way he'd fall for such a trick.
A swarm of Strongarm Bull Devils piled on top of Old Ox.
Faced with their attacks, Old Ox didn't resist at all—he used the last bit of his true qi just to protect his organs.
After a short while, Old Ox was nothing but a bloody mess, barely clinging to life.
"Damn it! Still not showing yourself?"
Pretending to be powerless, Old Ox cursed inwardly.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Blow after blow landed on him, splitting flesh and spraying blood, until his bones were exposed.