Chasing, Fleeing

In a short while, he finished about five kilograms of hard liquor. His face was already red and the temperature around him was quietly rising.

Three thousand meters up in the air, a Golden-Winged Condor was flying towards its lair while holding a log.

This log was extremely dry, the best material to build a nest. Moreover, based on its many years of experience, there was definitely a fat worm inside the log.

When its child was born, it could directly eat the freshest food.

This made the Golden-Winged Condor very satisfied with its gains today.

But gradually, it felt as if the wood in its claws began to heat up.

The Golden-Winged Condor was somewhat puzzled. It lowered its head to look at the piece of wood on its claw. In its bird life, such a thing had never happened.

Eh? There was a sound coming from the wood?

Wine pierces the intestines and breaks the soul, fire surges in sword heart that dreams of a long song!