Chen Chuan stared at the Flying Head, drew his Martial Halberd, and instantly aimed the muzzle at the creature's forehead before pulling the trigger.
BANG!
A burst of fire erupted from the muzzle.
The Flying Head seemed startled. It let out a sharp cry and shot upward, its long hair flaring out and completely obscuring his vision.
Chen Chuan was sure he had scored a direct hit, but the shot seemed to have passed straight through its head as if it were just a phantom. In that same moment, his other hand gripped his blade's hilt, and guided by instinct, he slashed upward!
The Flying Head shrieked again. While the gunshot had seemed useless, this time the blade made contact. He felt a faint resistance, as though he had struck something ethereal, but it was followed by a hollow sensation of not cutting anything solid.
