Chapter 223: The Old Moth Is Still the Old Moth

At least in reality, old Mikalis was not born with three heads and six arms. Although his vitality was indeed extremely strong, and many strange and twisting granulations grew on the wound, they were only abnormal granulations, and he did not really grow a second or third pair of strange arms.

So Watson's two shots were aimed at old Mikalis's shoulders - he did not aim at the opponent's head and heart and other fatal parts, just because although old Mikalis was old and weak, his physical fitness was far superior to that of ordinary people under the power of the secret phase.

Under the opponent's dry skin, there were muscles that were as strong as the roots of an old tree, as strong as iron.

And since this old guy abandoned the glow and transformed into the moth phase, his body seemed to be filled again, and the decayed nerves seemed to be reconnected.

The originally slightly slow movements became extremely agile, and he showed an extremely superb close combat skill.

Each claw strike contained the power of abandonment that Watson could not resist or that the moth in his skull was unwilling to resist. The five skinny fingers were as sharp as iron claws under the blessing of this abandonment magic power, and they easily scratched an inch of flesh and blood.

And old Mikalis seemed to have some kind of particularly sensitive wild intuition.

Whenever Watson was about to raise the muzzle of the gun to aim at the head and heart, the old guy could predict it in advance as if he had foreseen it, and even at the cost of other parts of the body being injured, he would do his best to dodge... and then resist the injury and return a swift claw strike, scratching another layer of flesh and blood from Watson's body.

At this point in the battle, both of them were already covered in blood, including their own blood and the other's blood.

The blood quickly condensed into ice in the cold winter night, but in a moment, a new wound bloomed, and the boiling blood of either oneself or the enemy was poured again, making the dark blood that had just solidified seem to melt again.

As the fight continued, a large amount of blood and flesh of the aging moth and the pale moth splashed, dyeing the nearby gray snow red. The boiling hot blood had just melted the snow, and then quickly condensed in the low temperature.

But even if the coldness that symbolizes the silence of winter can extinguish the boiling blood of the moth, it can never erase the power contained in the blood!

The Crossroads Mystics, who have completely sunk into their own sexual desires, are becoming more and more crazy. Some hideous joints seem to be about to pierce out from under their bodies. Their skin can't help but fall off by itself, and the exposed muscles shiver in the cold wind, as if they are terrified and excited.

Some terrifying existence hidden in the darkest corners of their bodies seems to be about to revive, and is about to tear this useless skin, and then it will rise up and roar to announce to these people who were once their inferior slaves-stupid upright apes, your real master is back!

But before the secret followers of the Crossroads Cult had completely transformed, two hungry black shadows suddenly jumped out from the darkness under the cliff and threw the people who were so confused that they could not use their mind senses to the ground.

Sharp fangs pierced into the fragile neck, and the deformed scissor-like mouthparts cut the throat. Blood gushed out like a spring and poured into the mouths and noses of the attackers, which were already stained with dried and dirty blood. They drank the sweet taste and tasted the delicious secrets. Power and knowledge were also hidden in this mellow blood.

The two suddenly appeared black shadows drank the blood of the four secret disciples, leaving only a body with the most delicious taste... This real delicacy was naturally left for the boss to enjoy!

After devouring all the secret knowledge and secret power, the two black shadows couldn't help but tremble violently. On the dim cliff, it was difficult to identify the reason for their crazy convulsions.

However, when another gunshot rang out, an orange flame ignited from the muzzle of the revolver, and this was the last bullet of the gun.

With the help of the gun flame that lit up at this moment, one could barely see that the surface of the two black shadows was rippling like waves, and the waves rolled down from top to bottom, as if their skin was performing the last dance of life - the black shadows were slowly removing their skin, like shedding a piece of clothing.

The shedding of redundant and useless skin symbolized the generation of new skin, the birth of new power, and the emergence of new knowledge.

The eyes of the two black shadows also lit up with a creepy green light, and the four eyes that seemed to contain some kind of bewitching and crazy magic turned to the two moth shadows that were wrestling and fighting, and fell on the aging moth insect.

The aging moth had already sensed that two not-too-strange smells were approaching, which seemed to be two of the many sheep it raised.

But the next moment, he sensed a familiar feeling mixed with the smell of the two once humble sheep, like the fluttering wings of moths and mottled shadows of trees.

For no reason, the aging moth recalled the Mansu forest that he had not entered for a long time, the ancient forest that never had daylight, the heavy and ancient steel... and the flapping sound of wings deep in the forest.

However, when he followed the dangerous intuition in his head and dodged the sharp blade again and hit it back with a heavy claw, he heard the pleasant sound of skin tearing and blood vessels bursting, and another inferior sweet smell filled the air filled with the fragrance of moth blood - that was the secret cult meal he was going to enjoy!

The wrinkled face of the aging moth could not help but twitch, and the anger of being robbed of food ignited angrily.

It frantically vibrated its wings, and the scales of the moth sank into the aging body again, causing another yellow tooth to fall into the mouth. The pink and tender buds that grew and wriggled from the tip of the tongue wrapped the fallen tooth and retracted into the depths of the mouth, as if accumulating some kind of power, just like a longbow drawn to the full moon and about to shoot out!

However, before the aging moth turned its head towards the two bold black shadows that snatched food, and spewed out the tooth device containing the power of abandonment and appetite... the pale moth in front of it once again waved the sharp straight blade to chop head-on.

Facing this heavy blow that was likely to split the skull with one knife, the aging moth could only hatefully spray the tooth device in its mouth towards the blade that was chopped down on its head.

The rotten and smelly tooth device collided violently with the unusually sharp blade, and suddenly a crisp sound like the sound of metal clashing burst out.

Although the tooth device inevitably broke, the sharp straight blade also deflected slightly, and only cut off the ear of the aging moth with one cut. The thin piece of meat fell to the ground, still rolling uncontrollably, as if struggling and wailing.

The sharp blade's downward momentum had not yet stopped, and it continued to chop down until it was deeply embedded in the collarbone of the aging moth, almost cutting off the pale bone directly!

The wriggling pink buds immediately rushed up, like the needle and thread in the hands of an experienced weaver, quickly sewing and mending the torn flesh and blood together, and the strong shoulder tendons effectively prevented the pale moth from withdrawing the blade.

The aging moth suddenly raised its head, and its dark eyes stared directly at the one-eyed pale moth, and its face full of vicissitudes of life revealed a trace of a sinister smile of success.