Facing an Ancient God for a Year

The setting sun slants, a gentle breeze wafts by.

It’s hard to think it’s out of public spirit, but the prey chose to flee in a direction that was indeed a quieter corner than the office building.

So neither the floating debris from before nor the current remains have attracted any audience yet.

But that’s only temporary; the commotion inside the building earlier clearly has already caught someone’s attention.

But it doesn’t matter, the one on the ground doesn’t have much longer anyway.

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"This form is much more pleasing to the eye."

As a courteous hunter, at this moment, Fu Qian did not belittle his opponent’s form or its performance along the way.

"The strategy is quite good too."

This is by no means flattery.

The massive heap now coiled on the ground still faintly shows the grace of the giant dragon’s bones from earlier, but the texture is far more beautiful.

No longer the interwoven flesh of a vile plague aesthetic, but smooth and delicate, with an inherent feeling of timelessness in its gray-white skin.

The form is much more emaciated, yet inexplicably harmonizes with this hue.