At the sight of this, a wicked smirk crept onto Qin Fan's face, and he let out a crazed chuckle.
Then, without a shred of pity, he wrapped the Jiao Dragon's tendon around his forearm. Stomping on the beast's back, he ran along its spine, rapidly winding the tendon from its vital seven-inch mark all the way up to its neck.
By the time Qin Fan reached the mother Jiao's neck—a mere blink of an eye later—the Jiao tendon was already coiled high around his arm. The piled-up, blue-green tendon emitted a pungent and bloody stench, but Qin Fan no longer cared.
"Urrgh... urrgh..."
Its previous wails of pain became muffled grunts. It was clear the Jiao Dragon was at the end of its strength. It seemed all that remained was Qin Fan's final pull. One more tug to rip the tendon out by its roots, and without a doubt, only death awaited the mother Jiao.
RIIIP!
There was no mercy to be found. As the mother Jiao awaited its end, Qin Fan, with an expressionless face, yanked with all his might!
