At his feet lay the massive, shattered corpse of a Three-Headed Venomous Basilisk, a peak Foundation Establishment beast that had terrorised the southern quadrant for a decade.
The Beast Lord didn't use a sword.
He didn't use elegant arrays either.
Instead, he had torn the creature's central head off with his bare, clawed hands.
Yanlie reached into the gaping, smoking chest cavity of the beast.
He bypassed the venom sacs and closed his fist around the glowing, pulsing core of the creature.
He ripped it free, the dark purple spiritual energy illuminating his feral, glowing amber eyes.
Without hesitation, Yanlie brought the raw, pulsating core to his mouth and bit down.
The bitter, chaotic energy exploded on his tongue, a surge of raw power that his demonic beast-blood greedily absorbed, forcing it through his meridians to forcefully expand his cultivation base.
It was truly a brutal method of progression.
But it was also how the beasts survived.
