Both of Wu Taeyong's arms had been ground down to nearly nothing.
Large portions of his torso had been shredded away, while his grey flesh was covered in countless wounds. In several places, white bones were exposed beneath the rotten flesh, and blood mixed with dark-green energy continuously leaked from his mangled body.
Yet...
He was still alive.
His crimson eyes remained open, burning with an incomparably terrifying hatred.
The cultivators spread across the battlefield stared at him in silence.
The King of Pishachas...
A monster who had appeared moments ago with overwhelming pressure and enough strength to make every cultivator present here tremble... Had just been reduced to a nearly lifeless wreck.
Su Mo looked at the barely breathing Wu Taeyong and smiled. Tilting his head, he spoke.
"Well..."
"Looks like you didn't really like the style of your coffin."
He glanced at the ruined surroundings.
"But you should make do with what you've got."
