"Come eat me..."
Fang Xing launched into swift movement, his figure like lightning, ethereal like an immortal. Assisted by the two Sword Demon Wings, he became elusive, unpredictable, nearly reaching Golden Core Realm, his movement technique at its peak. Behind him, four or five strange corpses had grown to seven or eight, roaring incessantly, their bodies covered in black evil qi, like seven or eight black whirlwinds in relentless pursuit. Even ahead of Fang Xing, on rooftops, within alleyways, and inside ruined halls, strange corpses would occasionally charge out, radiating evil qi, encircling and intercepting him, yet failing to touch him even slightly.
