Upon seeing this, Golden Blade Rakshasa curled up a disdainful sneer at the corner of his mouth, and his smile was full of contempt for the murderous monk.
He brandished the massive golden scimitar in his hand, charging forward like a black whirlwind. His movements were swift, the scimitar as light as a toy in his hands. Each swing unleashed a powerful blast of air, as sharp as a blade, spreading outward, sweeping the surrounding dust and gravel high into the sky.
The two men fought each other in an instant. For a moment, the sword light and the Buddha light crisscrossed, like a ball of colorful yet extremely dangerous light, colliding violently on the battlefield.
Every clash of weapons was accompanied by a deafening roar, as if the very heavens and earth were trembling. That sound was like the death knell of doom, tolling in people's ears and making them tremble with fear.
The powerful spiritual energy fluctuations were like a surging tsunami, spreading wildly around the two people. Wherever it went, whether it was soldiers or buildings, they were ruthlessly destroyed by this force.
Some soldiers were sent flying by the force, falling heavily to the ground, spitting blood, their lives unknown. Some tents and fortifications, like fragile houses of cards, collapsed in an instant under the surge of spiritual energy, sending up clouds of dust.
But after all, the Killing Monk had just experienced a thrilling and exhausting battle with Asura. At this time, his physical and spiritual power had been greatly depleted. In the battle with the Golden Sword Rakshasa, he gradually felt powerless.
His movements began to slow, and each swing of the Demon-Subduing Pestle required more effort. His breathing became rapid, and beads of sweat covered his forehead. Despite this, the determination in his eyes remained unwavering, and he continued to stubbornly resist the attacks of the Golden Blade Rakshasa.
The Golden Blade Rakshasa became more and more courageous as the battle went on. He saw that the Killing Heart Monk was tired and launched an even more fierce attack.
The golden scimitar in his hand turned into golden light and shadows, which were like a group of hungry wolves, or a golden storm covering the sky and the sun, slashing towards the murderous monk madly with an overwhelming force.
Each streak of light and shadow held immense power. They streaked through the air, leaving dark streaks in their wake, as if space itself were being torn apart by this powerful force. Golden light and shadow intertwined, forming a vast golden net that enveloped the Killing Monk, seemingly intent on trapping him and ultimately annihilating him.
Although the killer monk tried his best to resist, he was still gradually at a disadvantage under the storm-like attack.
Under the attack of the Golden Blade Rakshasa, his Buddha light became increasingly dim, like a lamp about to go out. Wounds also appeared on his body, and blood oozed from the wounds, staining his robes red.
But he still did not give up. He kept chanting Buddhist scriptures, trying to draw more strength from Buddhism to fight against the Golden Sword Rakshasa.
In a fierce collision, the Golden Blade Rakshasa seized the opportunity and used all his strength. His golden scimitar slashed at the murderous monk with earth-shattering power.
This attack contained all his evil power, as if he wanted to completely wipe out the murderous monk from this world.
His eyes were filled with cruelty and bloodthirstiness, and he seemed to have seen the murderous monk falling under his knife.
There was a loud "bang" and the Shaxin monk was hit by this powerful force. His golden body shattered instantly and shattered like a mirror.
The broken pieces of the golden body flew around like meteors, each piece carrying his remaining spiritual power.
The killer monk spat out a mouthful of blood, and his body flew backwards like a kite with a broken string, and fell heavily to the ground.
His face was as pale as paper, his breath was weak, and the candle of life seemed to be extinguished at this moment. There was still a trace of unwillingness in his eyes, but his body could no longer withstand further damage.
The Golden Blade Rakshasa held up his golden scimitar and walked towards the murderous monk step by step. Every step he took was full of oppression, as if the god of death was approaching life.
A smug smile appeared on his face, and that smile looked particularly hideous on this bloody battlefield.
When the people around saw this scene, they all looked despair, as if the end of the world was coming, and the battlefield was filled with the breath of death.
At this critical moment of life and death, something unexpected happened again.
The arrogant and confident Golden Blade Rakshasa suddenly changed his expression. His face, once filled with arrogance and disdain, was instantly replaced by fear. His eyes widened in disbelief, as if he had witnessed the most terrifying thing in the world.
He opened his mouth, wanting to shout something, but all that came out was a desperate "No!"
Then, in full view of everyone, his body quickly dissipated like flying ash, disappearing without a trace, as if it had never appeared in this world.
His dissipated body left no trace, and even the golden scimitar in his hand disappeared, leaving the people around him at a loss in astonishment.
This sudden and incredible change left everyone present completely stunned. They stood there blankly, their eyes filled with confusion and bewilderment, completely unable to understand what had happened.
Their thoughts seemed to have come to a standstill at this moment. They were just worried about the life and death of the killer monk, but in the blink of an eye they saw the Golden Knife Rakshasa disappear inexplicably. This huge contrast made their brains unable to accept it for a while.
Some people even began to wonder if they were dreaming. They rubbed their eyes and looked at the empty battlefield in front of them, their hearts full of questions.
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