Chapter 301 — The Gloomy Dark Valley
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 2 of 4
That Shaman King's vital essence became a great hand that caught the two practitioners, only to find that the two had been drained dry of all their blood and were dead.
Freed from their plight, the two white bats perched each on a great tree, opened their huge mouths, and again sent out soundless waves that sent the pursuers tumbling head over heels. One Shaman King raised a mirror into the air, and its light fell upon the two white bats, which at once dropped from the tree. Whoosh — blade light fell like rain, slashing down at the place where the two white bats had fallen; one of the Shaman Kings shook his body and became a golden giant with an elephant's head and a human body, who lifted a boulder the size of a hill and smashed it down with a thunderous crash upon the spot.
Another Shaman King manifested his primordial spirit behind him, his vital essence becoming an enormous palm that pressed down and shattered the boulder to bits; the earth quaked without cease, and the trees all around were sent flying!
"They should be dead now, surely? " Before anyone could breathe a sigh of relief, the army charged toward the spot, but before they reached it the two white bats rose into the air again, wobbling as they flew into the forest — still not dead.
A Shaman King shook the white banner once more; the souls of the two white bats were struck, and down they fell again, and again the blade rain descended, countless attacks raining down.
When that wave of attacks was over, the two white bats rose again; though their forms wavered, they still did not die.
"Remarkable indeed.
" Ban Gongcuo could not help but be astonished.
These two white bats truly had hide like leather and flesh like stone; even the blade-orbs of the grassland's most renowned primal weapons could not wound them. It was the Shaman Kings of Loulan's Golden Palace who had done them harm.
That the white bats had withstood the attacks of several Shaman Kings head-on and still would not die was quite beyond his expectations. "Fat Dragon, do you think you're still a match for those two white bats?
" Shen Mu, who had already walked deep into the forest, said with a smile to Long Qilin.
Long Qilin snorted. "They're strong, all right, but aren't they still getting beaten till they're picking their teeth up off the ground?
" The Mandi soldiers had already rushed into the mountain forest of the Nether Valley in pursuit of the two white bats.
The bats were gravely wounded, now flying up, now dropping back into the woods.
The Mandi divine ability practitioners spread out and searched in all directions.
Just then, a rustling sound suddenly came from the forest. One Mandi practitioner, alert, stirred his blade-orb; the orb spun round and round, and one small curved blade after another flew out from it, circling the orb, the blades now large, now small.
The rustling stopped abruptly.
The practitioner still dared not relax, and crept forward cautiously; the tiny curved blades multiplied, their light now bright, now dim.
He walked into an orchard, the trees heavy with fruit: red apples, each the size of a fist.
The practitioner entered the orchard warily, then heard a rustling behind him; he whirled around but saw nothing — yet the rustling came again from in front of him.
He jerked his head around to look ahead: still nothing. But then the sound came again from behind. He was sharp, though, and gave no sign; a curved blade quietly appeared before him and slowly grew larger, its surface bright as a mirror, reflecting what lay behind him.
Behind him, the apples on the apple trees were turning their "heads"; the backs of the apples were in fact faces, with noses, eyes, and mouths, and they looked at him with eerie smiles.
The practitioner's blood ran cold; every curved blade in his blade-orb flew out, slashing at the apples in all directions!