These demonic figures kept twisting and struggling on the shields, opening their bloody mouths and roaring. The sound was like a call from hell, as if they wanted to drag everything in the world into an endless dark abyss.
They seemed to want to use this evil power to devour the oncoming golden light, use darkness to fight against light, and use evil to resist justice.
However, in the face of the powerful attack from the Killing Monk, which condensed the endless power of justice, his shield was like fragile bubbles and was instantly shattered.
The golden light penetrated Ashura's body unhindered. With a deafening roar that seemed to tear apart time and space, Ashura's huge head was blown up by this unmatched force, like a gorgeous firework blooming in the night sky.
His head turned into countless black fragments and flew around. Each fragment carried his remaining evil spiritual power and quickly dissipated in the air.
Then his huge body fell to the ground with a loud bang, raising a cloud of dust, like a collapsed mountain. The once feared leader of the Shura Sect completely disappeared from this world.
His death, like a huge rock thrown into a calm lake, caused huge waves on the battlefield.
For a moment, the battlefield fell into dead silence. Both the army of the ancient kingdom of Galan and the Buddhists were stunned by this shocking scene.
They seemed to be under a spell of immobilization, standing there blankly, their eyes fixed on the place where Asura disappeared, their minds blank, and they even forgot to breathe.
The thrilling scene just now left a deep impression in their hearts. It was a display of powerful strength beyond their imagination, which gave them a new understanding of the war before them.
Immediately afterwards, cheers rang out on the battlefield like a surging wave. The cheers gathered into a powerful force, breaking through the haze brought by the war.
Soldiers raised their weapons high, while believers chanted Buddhist mantras. Their voices blended into a hymn of victory. They believed that this brutal war had finally ushered in the dawn of victory, and that the hope of peace seemed to have returned to this war-torn land. The cheers echoed across the battlefield, reaching far and wide, as if to tell this good news to every corner of the world.
However, fate always seems to like to deal a heavy blow to people when they are most proud.
Just as everyone was immersed in the joy of victory and had not yet recovered from the shock of Asura being killed, something strange happened suddenly.
The originally clear, cloudless sky was instantly enveloped by dark clouds. The clouds came with such force, like ferocious, bared-fangs, and incredibly ferocious beasts, rolling and roaring wantonly in the sky, as if they were about to devour the entire world.
They gathered from all directions at an extremely fast speed, blocking out the sun in an instant and plunging the entire battlefield into darkness.
Amidst lightning and thunder, a figure streaked across the sky like a meteor and descended from the sky with unstoppable momentum.
This man is tall and burly, wearing a black armor inlaid with various mysterious runes. The runes flash with strange light, as if telling an ancient and evil story.
He held a huge golden scimitar in his hand. The scimitar was more than one meter tall, with a broad and heavy blade, emitting a chilling cold light, like the scythe of the god of death. It seemed that with just a light swing, it could cut the thread of life.
The blade is engraved with complex patterns, which seem to come alive under the light, twisting and wriggling, giving people a creepy feeling, as if the blade itself is a living evil being forged by the god of death himself.
He exuded a strong evil aura that spread outward like a substance, suffocating those around him. It was a mixture of blood, death, darkness, and despair, like an invisible hand, tightly grasping people's throats and suffocating them.
Under this powerful pressure, many people involuntarily took a few steps back. Their faces turned pale as paper, their eyes were filled with fear, and their bodies trembled slightly with fear.
"I am the Golden Blade Rakshasa, the messenger of Lord Wu Jin!"
The newcomer shouted, his voice like the cry of a night owl, sharp and piercing, filled with arrogance and disdain, echoing across the battlefield and chilling everyone to the bone. That voice seemed to carry a magical power that could penetrate the soul and sow the seeds of fear in their hearts.
He stood there, looking at the people around him with contempt, as if he was looking at a group of ants. This look made everyone present feel extremely angry, but besides the anger, they were more afraid of his powerful strength.
Seeing this, the killer monk frowned slightly. He could clearly feel the suffocatingly powerful evil force from the person in front of him, but his eyes were still as firm as a rock, without any fear.
He held the demon-subduing pestle tightly in both hands and took a step forward. Each step was steady and powerful, as if the earth was trembling with his footsteps. The flame of justice burned in his eyes, and the flame burned more and more vigorously, as if to burn all the evil before him.
"Evil demon, stop being so arrogant! Even if it costs me my life today, I will definitely kill a villain like you and restore peace to the world!"
Sha Xin's words echoed on the battlefield like a solemn oath, making everyone around him feel his determination and courage.
With that, he raised the demon-subduing pestle once more, and a radiant Buddha light shone around him, a golden armor that protected him. He charged towards the Golden Blade Rakshasa, each movement imbued with power, as if carrying the might of heaven and earth.
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