The Half-Lion Chief stared, dumbfounded, at the scene unfolding before him.
Chen Han had charged into the pack of Half Lion-men.
He was like a Death God from the Nine Nether Eighteen Blood Hells, frantically reaping lives.
With nearly every step he took,
two or three Half Lion-men would fall. The long saber in his hand seemed to grow sharper with every drop of blood it tasted.
In his wake,
he left a path paved with blood and fire.
Ten steps!
Twenty steps!
Thirty steps!
The Half-Lion Chief's eyes narrowed. He realized this human was cutting a path straight toward him.
For some reason,
gazing into the youth's incredibly determined eyes, his own heart couldn't help but tremble...
...
SPLURT!
Blood gushed like a fountain. A head flew high into the air and slammed onto the ground. The headless corpse remained standing, blood already drained from the bowl-sized wound at its neck.
