Both demons were holding a Cloud Octopus, each half dead, their eight tentacles gnawed clean—clearly all had gone into these two monsters' bellies.
Hui Yao, seeing the strength of the two, now showed no trace of his previous posture, stowed away the bell and became humble, his attitude changing dramatically, calling out:
"My lord… My lord, such thunderbolt! Mage, such spell!"
This demon had obviously never flattered anyone like this before; all it could say was "good" over and over. Demons are always like this, bearing no moral burden; changing faces happens in an instant. Li Qinghong was not surprised, pointed to the Cloud Octopus, and spoke:
"Let's not discuss how to divide the rest of the spoils for now. That one is mine—I still have some use for it."
Hui Yao nodded repeatedly. Kongheng glanced at the Cloud Octopus heads in their hands, displaying hints of doubt, and spoke up:
"These two abominations seem a bit weak."
