"Hiss."
Blood splatters.
Reflecting the dazzling pink overhead, it was akin to slicing through a piece of exceptionally thick cowhide. The black-gray blade, somewhat sluggishly, struggled to cut through that layer of skin, eroded of its crystalline particles, leaving only a vague pink hue.
In contrast, the muscles and bones that followed were much easier, the blade smoothly slicing through until it reached the skin on the other side, where it again slowed down.
It was already the last Crystal Person on the field. Xia Nan could actually sheathe his sword, like Margaret, without completely cutting through, leaving just the outer layer of skin to connect the decapitated head, which would hang down the shoulder and chest.
And it would save a bit of energy.
But perhaps, it was a habit or let's say, a quirk, developed over countless battles and slaughters.
