"Damn it!"
A furious roar tore through the clouds.
The Tiger Demon steadied its body, reverted to its human form, and tightly clenched its right wrist, the entire arm trembling slightly.
The Demon Race is blessed; apart from their cultivation boundaries, their inherently robust demon bodies are also deadly weapons, vastly superior to most cultivators' magic treasures, and could have an advantage in close combat. Only the Golden Arhats of the Bodhi Sect could match them.
Yet this youngster in front of it had suffered a significant loss through such a casual gesture.
The Tiger Demon's eyelids twitched, and its vision was filled with thick blood mist. It had intended to lead the charge and break through the city but ended up suffering several losses of Great Demons.
Losing face in front of the three demon factions, it must certainly make a move to regain its honor.
