"Boring trick!"
In the sky, the dragon let out an angry roar.
With a casual flick of its head, it flung the Desert Sword along with the blood.
The next second.
The wound on the dragon's head quickly healed, and within a few breaths, it looked as if it had never been injured at all.
"Dragon Blood, Brother Wu!"
Ma San shouted urgently.
Wu Xiaode had a stirred expression.
—Could this blood be of some use?
He released the bronze hand, capturing the blood-stained Desert Sword from the air and collected the droplets of blood. Then he patted Ma San and said,
"I've got it."
"Good! Good! Brother Wu, your cultivation is hopeful now!" Ma San said excitedly.
Wu Xiaode did not understand and glanced at the battlefield, saying,
"We need to move back a bit."
Ma San also looked towards the center of the arena, where the bronze giant had already killed about seventy to eighty percent of the gathered demons and was intensely fighting with the remaining powerful demons.
