novelnext Chapter 93 Iron-Blooded Slaughter
Chapter 93 Iron-Blooded Slaughter
Chapter 94 Iron-Blooded Slaughter
It was raining heavily.
Demonic energy swirled around.
Wild beasts grind their teeth and suck blood, while plants sway in the wind and rain.
On the open ground, the atmosphere among the three factions seemed frozen.
In half a day, only a few disciples who went out to look for people returned; the rest were nowhere to be found.
After searching, they found only three dead bodies.
This indicates that a powerful enemy is nearby, ruthlessly slaughtering these disciples without the three innate masters being aware of it.
Surrounded by ferocious beasts, this feeling terrified even the weaker fighters present.
Three corpses were laid out neatly on the ground, their bodies covered with cloth.
The rain was too heavy, and the cloth was quickly soaked, clinging tightly to the outline of the corpses, outlining stiff faces.
The three masters remained silent. He Zhengru stood beside the corpse, his single arm hanging at his side, motionless.
His face was mostly covered by a straw hat, making it impossible to see his expression, but the knuckles of his thumbs, which were gripping the sword hilt tightly, were white and the veins were bulging.
Zheng Xing squatted down beside the corpse and carefully examined the wounds.
After a long while, he stood up, his face ashen.
"The same wounds again? — I mean, the same as the previous ones?" Wei Bingyan's voice was somewhat hoarse.
Zheng Xing nodded: "Without a doubt, this was caused by internal energy."
"Are there any innate masters around here?" Wei Bingyan frowned.
There have been too many ghost stories lately, and everyone's nerves are in a state of shock and tension every day. Even the three great masters of innate strength feel overwhelmed and exhausted.
However, now is definitely not the time to complain about being tired.
"Who is it?" All three of them were baffled.
Logically speaking, who would be so bored as to attack these disciples if they were a master of innate level?
What pleasure can one derive from torturing and killing small animals?
Zheng Xing suddenly changed his expression and said, "Could it be a demon?"
demon!
Upon hearing this guess, the expressions of those present immediately changed drastically.
If it is a demon, then its methods are beyond human imagination.
This is obviously much more normal than a master of innate ability attacking a sect disciple. After all, what's the difference between this behavior and a doctoral student rushing into a kindergarten with a machine gun and starting a massacre?
He Zhengru suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse as if he had a handful of iron filings in it: "Is it possible—it's that kid?"
The group looked at each other, speechless.
Clearly, this speculation was unacceptable to them.
"Impossible, right? If it was a human who did it, it would definitely be Qi, there's no doubt that guy reached the Innate Realm in just two days, right?"
""
Wei Bingyan frowned and rejected the idea. Even the world's most talented geniuses need to train hard for more than ten years and painstakingly seek out hidden cultivation in order to break through this strongest shackle that the Heavenly Dao has given to mankind.
If someone could break through to the innate level so easily, then that person is not human at all.
Unless he is possessed by a martial god or has the Heavenly Emperor by his side.
The atmosphere at the camp was becoming increasingly oppressive.
The disciples huddled together, back to back, their eyes constantly scanning the surrounding dense forest like a flock of startled sheep.
All around was completely silent.
The only sounds were the rain, the wind, and the occasional howl of wild beasts from afar.
Where exactly is the enemy?
Everyone silently placed their large hands on the sword hilts, their white knuckles gripping the hilts tightly.
Tensions.
Ready for battle at any moment.
"Uncle-Master—" A disciple's voice broke the silence. He stood at the edge of the camp, his face pale. "Senior Brother Chu and Senior Brother Xue haven't returned either."
Before the words had even faded from the air, a very subtle sound rang out. He Zhengru suddenly raised his head, swung his single arm, and a sword aura shot out.
The sword energy was so swift and sharp that it instantly sliced and shredded the two objects that were hurtling down from the sky.
Splash!
A pile of things fell to the ground, but the sword energy continued its momentum, striking a large tree behind it. The tree trunk crashed down, smashing into the ground and splashing up a large amount of mud and water.
"withdraw!"
His voice sounded like it was being squeezed out from between his teeth.
"Everyone, withdraw."
"Uncle-Master!" a disciple suddenly screamed, staring at the object on the ground as if he had seen a ghost. "This is—Senior Brother Chu and Senior Brother Xue."
Everyone turned to look at the ground, where they saw a pair of corpses neatly sliced apart by the indestructible innate sword energy, turning into fragments that fell to the ground.
An atmosphere of grimness and terror instantly filled the entire area, and the dampness from the rain began to spread.
In the silence, a voice slowly emerged, initially from afar, but upon closer listening, it was already right next to you!
"who!!!!"
As He Zhengru raised his hand, three sword energies erupted simultaneously, shooting towards the dense forest behind the rain curtain.
A vast and overwhelming killing intent was spreading across the land, enveloping all directions.
In the rain, the overlapping tree canopies looked like floating ghosts.
The sword energy shot into the dense forest, emitting a howling gale, followed by the cracking sound of trees being cut down and falling to the ground.
A figure in cyan was slowly walking towards them.
This man was dressed in a blue robe, tall and imposing, with a long sword hanging on his back.
They strode in.
A deep-seated hatred shot from He Zhengru's eyes, like a sharp blade aimed at his opponent.
Zheng Xing and Wei Bingyan, two innate masters, instinctively took a half step back, shielding their disciples behind them.
"You charlatan, come out here!"
Wei Bingyan pointed his sword at the source of the sound.
The blue figure drew closer.
A rain hat made of leaves covered his face, revealing only a sharply defined chin and a pair of calm, somewhat indifferent eyes.
Despite the torrential rain that offered virtually no shelter, the man remained completely dry. Water droplets that approached were repelled by an invisible layer, forming a hazy mist around him.
Their steps faltered.
The newcomer reached out and took off his straw hat, then casually tossed it aside.
That young face was exposed to the rain.
Rain streamed down his cheeks, and a hearty smile spread across his face.
His gaze calmly swept over everyone present—the terrified disciple, the ashen-faced Zheng Xing, the gloomy Wei Bingyan—before finally settling on the one-armed He Zhengru.
"Weren't you looking for me?"
Song Shen's voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly to everyone's ears in the rain.
A deathly silence.
A plume of smoke was slowly rising, and Zheng Xing and Wei Bingyan looked at He Zhengru in horror as he saw the latter burning.
The innate essence and blood that are extremely precious to elderly masters are burned fiercely as if they were worthless, turning into scorching smoke that bends the line of sight.
He Zhengru, the old swordsman who has lived for more than seventy years, is burning the last of his life, using hatred as fuel to force himself to reach his strongest state once again.
"kill!!!!!!!!"
The endless barrage of swords was like a volley of arrows, a massive army charging and firing together.
"Well done!"
Song Shen rose from the ground, his golden aura burning fiercely. The swirling essence of heaven and earth, within the true aura, detached from his blade and transformed into a sky full of sword energy.
Countless explosions erupted in the air in an instant, and Song Shen, his figure flashing like lightning, charged towards his opponent.
Startling Dragon Steps - Riding the North Wind!
Thunderous Blade Technique: Lightning-Fast Assault!
The metallic clang of swords clashing spread rapidly in ripples, as the longsword, imbued with powerful energy, slashed relentlessly through the air, clashing with the old swordsman's blade.
Countless trees collapsed.
Rocks pierce the sky, and the aura of energy surges.
The figures separated again.
"carefree!!!"
Song Shen laughed heartily, letting the rain fall on his face. He had just mastered the True Qi, and now a master had come to spar with him to prove his martial arts skills.
What a precious and rare experience this is!!!
"You—you're already at the Innate level!!!!"
The three innate masters were visibly shaken.
He Zhengru, in particular, was as if he had seen a ghost.
Two days ago, this young man was still struggling to escape their pursuit.
Two days later, he stood here, using his innate qi to directly confront his own burning blood essence sword.
On the contrary, they retreated repeatedly, while their opponents remained as steady as mountains in a storm.
Two days?
That's impossible. I've heard that a day in heaven is equivalent to a year on earth. Could this guy be living in the immortal realm?
Nearby, a group of sect disciples felt as if their mouths were soaked in bitter herbs, extremely bitter.
innate!
This person looks like—only a teenager?
He appeared to be even younger and more vibrant than them, yet he was enough to make the three innate masters feel as if they were facing a formidable enemy, filled with immense fear.
As peers, they didn't even have the right to spar with each other.
What kind of difference is this?
"My uncle and his team—they'll win, right?"
"We will—we will win—"
No matter what, these are three innate masters!
Three against one, they can't possibly lose, right?
Just then, three plumes of smoke burst into flames behind them.
First was He Zhengru, who had already burned once, and now he was burning a second time.
"Today, I will use this method of self-destruction to force myself back to my prime, and I will risk my old life to kill you, this scourge, here."
Zheng Xing and Wei Bingyan, who were nearby, both felt a sense of tragedy and devastation.
Old He had already lost an arm, and now he was burning his life essence for the third time. Even if he killed his opponent this time, he would definitely not survive.
This was a strike from the aged swordsman, a strike that burned with the life force of his being, containing the true essence of his swordsmanship. This battle was absolutely sublime and spectacular.
Because it contains the ultimate essence of swordsmanship honed throughout the life of He Zhengru, a swordsman from Feixue Mountain Villa.
Zheng Xing and Wei Bingyan were both burning.
Previously, the three had managed to escape when they attacked him, but this time, to ensure their safety, the two were no longer afraid of death. They immediately burned their life essence to instantly boost their own condition to its peak, ready to fight a bloody battle and kill him.
Song Shen seemed oblivious to the three men's actions, standing quietly as they burned their lives in a final, desperate struggle.
Wasn't he also filled with fighting spirit?
This time, you have nowhere to run!
A roar that pierced the clouds and split rocks rang out first, and it was Song Shen who moved first, displaying a mixture of bravery, fearlessness, and fierceness.
Song Shen's blade energy, accompanied by thunder and fire, slashed through the air.
Three sword energies shot out together, clashing in mid-air.
boom!!!!!!
The raindrops instantly turned into steam, and He Zhengru, who had already burned himself to the limit, transformed into a stream of light and pounced on Song Shen. His longsword turned into endless raindrops, creating layers of wild, surging ripples.
"carefree!!!"
He Zhengru laughed heartily, "My life's work in the sword will end with the blood of you, this unparalleled genius!!"
Song Shen raised his hand and unleashed nine hundred and eighty-three slashes. The blade energy transformed from his longsword shook his opponent's sword, causing it to emit a mournful cry.
Every sword strike elicited a response, every strike missed its mark. Song Shen's blade moved faster than anyone could imagine, even striking back before the opponent's longsword was even fully prepared.
"Old man, what are you burning?"
Song Shen smiled faintly, "You are just one of my many victims, nothing special."
With a muffled groan, another master had completed his secret technique and charged forward, his sword flashing.
Song Shen remained completely calm, using his powerful sword energy to create a dense network of blades, like an impregnable fortress, to withstand the combined attack of the three.
"Looks like you old folks have wasted your lives at such an advanced age."
With a sigh, Song Shen deflected Wei Bingyan's sword with a single strike. His longsword, imbued with explosive true energy, slashed at the other two. In the blink of an eye, they exchanged hundreds of blows, leaving the two men stiff and exhausted of their true energy.
In that brief moment of opening, Song Shen moved with lightning speed, shifting his position and breaking through the encirclement set up by the three swords, before hurling stones and disappearing into the distance.
Behind the three masters, a group of disciples watched this scene in horror. When Song Shen's figure broke through the encirclement, everyone's heart skipped a beat.
Could it be that this kid escaped again?
But the next second, someone shouted first.
"Run—run away!!"
One disciple cried out first, and everyone stared in disbelief as the blue figure rose against the sky in the rain, suddenly stepped on a tree trunk, and leaped through the air, hurtling towards the disciples like a torrent of stones.
Everyone's face turned deathly pale instantly, and their blood seemed to run cold.
How will these three innate masters deal with the madman who can survive even after being strangled by three powerful opponents?
With a flash of light, one person was the first to fall.
The lingering echoes of the blade's roar still reverberate.
It wasn't the sound of a long sword being drawn, but the sound of qi piercing through the air, extremely faint and subtle, like a string on a musical instrument being plucked by the wind, emitting an almost inaudible hum in the rain.
"Run! Run separately!"
The disciple running in the lead was still taking steps, his legs still alternating, his body still leaning forward—but his head was no longer in the same position.
The inertia carried his body a couple more steps, then the cut surface of his neck faced upwards, rainwater poured into his trachea, making a gurgling sound.
The corpse crashed to the ground, its head rolling twice before coming to rest at the feet of a disciple.
During the frantic run, one of the disciples glanced down and his pupils suddenly dilated.
The head's eyes were still open, its mouth was still agape, and the look of terror from its escape remained on its face.
It seems to be asking: Am I not running fast enough?
"You dog, you villain, you poisonous thief!" He Zhengru roared in the air, charging forward with his sword.
Zheng Xing roared in equal fury: "You dare call yourself a 'Congenital Master'? With such methods, are you even human? You're not even as good as a demon!!!!"
Song Shen lunged at the group of young disciples, his blade flashing incessantly.
"You three old geezers ganged up to kill me, and now you're talking to me about morality and righteousness?"
"He who kills will always be killed!"
"Let me give you a shocking lesson. When you entertain the thought of murder, you should have been prepared to be killed!"
"ah"
Screams erupted one after another.
The crowd scattered in all directions like ants whose nest had been disturbed.
No one thought of drawing their sword, no one thought of resisting, and no one even thought of running towards their martial uncle.
They were just instinctively, blindly, running around like headless flies.
It doesn't matter how fast you run, what matters is running faster than your fellow disciples!
Driven by this thought and a desire to live, the disciples fled frantically.
"Don't wander off! Form a defensive formation! Form a defensive formation!"
Zheng Xing's voice boomed in the rain, but no one listened.
The sect disciples, infected by the plague known as panic, are now nothing more than sheep waiting to be slaughtered.
—Running away was their only thought, as they were terrified.
Song Shen darted into the forest, employing unpredictable and elusive footwork. In the midst of the fight, he and his sword would constantly break through the air, and with each swing of his sword, a disciple would die instantly.
To the left front, a disciple is running up the mountain, climbing the slippery rock face with both hands and feet.
Song Shen raised his hand, and a burst of qi shot out, piercing through the forest and leaves, precisely piercing the back of the disciple's neck.
The body slid down the rock face, bringing with it a shower of rubble and dirt, which landed on a disciple who was running below.
The two men rolled together, their blood and mud mingling together, making it impossible to tell them apart.
To the right rear, two disciples fled side by side, pulling at each other, neither willing to fall behind even a step.
Song Shen turned around, raised his hand, and shot out two bursts of qi one after the other.
The first hit struck the guy on the left in the back, and the second shot drew an arc through the rain, bypassing a large tree and slicing into the guy on the right's temple from the side.
The two men's running postures froze at the same moment, and then they fell forward at the same time, as if their ankles were being held by an invisible thread.
The blade flashed again.
The blade's energy pierced through his body.
Another fruit has been added to the Dao Fruit column.
One disciple was fleeing deeper into the dense forest; he was the last one.
Without direction, not knowing where to survive.
Their trip down the mountain was merely to accompany the sect elders on an adventure to broaden their horizons and, incidentally, to verify their recent cultivation gains.
Stepping into this nightmare filled them with more panic and fear than anyone else!
A very faint swirl of a blade came from behind him, and he instinctively turned around—
I saw a silvery-white arc unfolding in the rain, like a bird spreading its wings, or a blooming flower.
An arc swept across his chest. He looked down and saw a thin, straight tear in his robe, as if it had been made by a paper cutter.
Then he felt pain.
It didn't come from my chest, it came from all directions.
His body was disintegrating, like a sculpture being blown apart from the inside. He didn't even have time to scream before his consciousness was swallowed by darkness.
"Stop! Stop!!!"
Zheng Xing roared, looking at Wei Bingyan, who was also looking at him.
Their eyes met through the rain, and they both saw the same meaning in each other's eyes: It's over.
It's not that this battle is over, it's that they are finished.
So many outstanding disciples, turned to dust in a single day, completely wiped out. Even if they return to the sect, what severe punishment awaits them?
This pure, bloodthirsty, starving slaughter has finally come to an end.
Song Shen casually flicked his wrist, and the blood on the blade flew away and disappeared. "Now I don't have to worry about hurting innocent people."
Wei Bingyan slowly closed his eyes, Zheng Xing's gloomy face began to distort slightly, while He Zhengru's eyes still burned with the last flame.
In such a battle, if a master like Song Shen were to intentionally slaughter these juniors, no one could stop him.
Having broken free from their shackles and gained the blessing of the power of heaven and earth, these innate powerhouses are not even the same species as these acquired martial artists. As long as their purest innate qi is unleashed, even if an acquired martial artist doesn't die, they will be crippled on the spot.
Of course, there are exceptions for certain extremely special cases.
He Zhengru's longsword emitted billowing smoke of blood.
"Don't be sad, this is their fate."
At that moment, death loomed over him like an inescapable dark cloud.
"When we came down the mountain, we said that the world is dangerous and life and death are unpredictable. It is useless to wallow in self-pity."
Wei Bingyan slowly opened his eyes.
The short, swordsman Zheng Xing stood atop the treetop, gaining some insight.
"Yes, back then we followed our masters out of the sect. The elders always said: The world of martial arts is dangerous, and life and death are on the line. You and I are lucky in the end, but they are unlucky. This is fate, this is the nature of the world of martial arts."
"Look at these young lives, dying on the spot in the prime of their lives. This is the true martial world. The martial world is this cruel and real. You and I are lucky to have survived to our seventies and still be able to wield swords. What are you talking about the injustice of fate?"
The three innate masters exchanged a glance.
At the same time, a slight smile appeared on his face.
That wasn't a relieved smile, nor a smile of liberation.
It was a fearless laugh, a laugh that seemed to have seen through everything.
No more fear, no more hesitation, no more looking back and forth.
The longsword in Zhiwei's hand unleashed its final brilliance!
He Zhengru slowly raised his longsword, the blood smoke on the blade growing thicker and thicker, like twisting snakes coiling around the edge.
His one arm was trembling, and his aged body had been hollowed out in the process of burning away his life essence.
The aged skin had an unnatural grayish-white color, as if all the moisture had been drained from it, clinging tightly to the bones.
But his eyes were bright.
"In my life, I have practiced swordsmanship for sixty-three years." He Zhengru's voice was hoarse, as if squeezed from the depths of his throat. "For the first twenty years, I knew nothing of swordsmanship; for the next twenty years, I sought fame through swordsmanship; and for the last twenty years, I sought the Dao through swordsmanship. In the end, swordsmanship is still swordsmanship, and I am still myself. I have not found the Dao, and I have almost forgotten fame."
He paused, looking at the longsword in his hand that was already covered in cracks.
"But today, I finally understand one thing: the sword is not for seeking the Way, but for killing. I have practiced for sixty-three years, all for this one sword strike today."
"kill!!!!"
A roar erupted as the three masters, in perfect unison, simultaneously charged towards their opponent amidst the raging flames.
His swift figure resembled a large truck, carrying a powerful surge of energy as he charged forward. Three swords unleashed a barrage of arrows. Song Shen, having just slain several men, still had some strength left. He immediately crouched down, mounted his horse, and swung his sword to strike hard.
Before he could finish speaking, He Zhengru arrived first.
It's more accurate to call it "explosion" than "rushing".
His body shot out like a lit cannonball, leaving a three-foot-wide crater in the mud beneath his feet, splashing mud and water everywhere.
He transformed into a dark red streak of light, carrying the rampaging innate sword energy fueled by his burning essence, and shot towards Song Shen.
That sword strike had no moves, no variations, only speed and ruthlessness.
It was so fast that the air was torn apart, emitting a sharp whistling sound.
The cracks on the sword were spreading rapidly, as if it would shatter at any moment.
This is the final condensation of He Zhengru's lifelong swordsmanship.
Only attack, never defend, forge ahead relentlessly, no need to change tactics, only one sword.
Song Shen did not back down.
The long sword was drawn.
Secret Technique: Wind and Thunder Slash!
His blade did not meet He Zhengru's sword, but instead met the dark red streak of light itself.
Where the blade flashed, a sudden gust of wind arose.
The wind was amplified to its maximum force at this moment, and the blade merged into the wind, so fast that it was invisible and formless.
The moment the swords clashed, a visible shockwave exploded, turning all the rain within a ten-foot radius into mist.
He Zhengru's longsword shattered completely after this clash, with fragments scattering and drawing silver arcs in the air.
But he did not stop.
His shattered robe was completely burned in the flames, and his long silver hair vanished without a trace. He rushed towards Song Shen all alone.
"Old He!!!!"
Zheng Xing and Wei Bingyan attacked simultaneously, lunging forward to kill.
In my field of vision, He Zhengru's body was disintegrating. In the last moment, he was completely released, and his burned body was scattered all over Flying Dragon Mountain.
Golden blade light shot out like raindrops, indestructible and mercilessly cutting down everything in its path.
[Achieved the Essence Dao Fruit: He Zhengru (September 41st year)]
Two sword energies shot out from the left and right like madmen.
"Very good. You make me feel that you are true warriors and swordsmen, which earns my respect."
Song Shen was moved and said.
"If you swear that you will retreat at the mere mention of my name in the future, I will be willing to abandon this battle."
The two innate masters laughed simultaneously: "Are you still begging for reconciliation?"
Song Shen said earnestly, "No, I pity you, but of course I'm not being disrespectful."
"We have dedicated our lives to the way of the sword, breaking free from constraints to reach where we are today. Today, we face death with a will to live. Why do you need to put on this pretentious act?"
kill!"
"good!"
With a long roar, Song Shen took a sidestep and slashed horizontally. A huge tree, as thick as a person's embrace, fell to the enemy behind him. He then rose into the air like a raging dragon, clinging to the tree trunk.
The extremely sharp innate sword energy instantly shredded the fallen tree and relentlessly pursued it until the very end.
"Why did you flee?" Old man Zheng Xing roared. "Are you afraid to complete this final sword duel with us?"
"good!"
Song Shen's figure faltered slightly as two sword beams shot out from behind him with explosive sonic booms.
The surging true energy flowed through Song Shen's meridians, and the qi from the inside out merged with the sword's momentum, launching outwards from the blade.
Instead of retreating, he advanced, taking a step forward and striking his opponent squarely where his blade was at its sharpest point, showing no intention of avoiding the attack. He was using force to counter force and violence to counter violence.
"when!!!!"
A deafening sound rang out, and a surge of cold light instantly appeared.
As Song Shen raised his hand, the blade in his palm flashed with sharp light, shooting out like meteorite rays. In the scorching airwaves, the golden blade energy was fully revealed.
A series of rapid strikes rang out. Old man Zheng Xing roared and unleashed his most powerful technique, slashing with all his might for one hundred and eighty sword strikes. When he delivered the last strike, his tiger's mouth exploded, his arm completely lost sensation, and his mind went blank for a moment.
It was at that very moment.
With a single strike, Song Shen cleaved through two dense sword nets, unleashing an indestructible innate sword aura.
A straight blade flashed by.
Blood rained down, splattering all over the walls, and severed heads flew off and fell into the rain outside the window, landing with a thud on the ground.
A peerless swordsman thus perished.
[Achieved the Dao Fruit of Skill: Zheng Xing (March of the 48th year)]
"Old Zheng!!!"
Wei Bingyan's eyes were bloodshot. The previous exchange was incredibly fierce. Although he had already landed more than a hundred strikes, it was actually almost instantaneous. His opponent's output left him completely overwhelmed.
Especially this strange and indescribable golden blade energy, it was truly too eerie.
Having roamed the martial world for many years, they had never seen such terrifying true energy.
Golden true energy, is this demonic art?
There was no room for retreat, and no thought of survival.
At this moment, Wei Bingyan was one with his sword.
True Qi erupted.
Finally, the flames rose together with the smoke.
"Come on! I'll burn the swordsmanship of my entire life and see if I can leave a sword mark on your body, a genius that has shaken the ages!"
""
The answer was a passionate scathing sound.
Song Shen unleashed a slash, causing a violent tremor of wind and thunder.
In the clash between the blade and the saber's edge, Song Shen, no longer surrounded, unleashed his full power, combining wind, fire, and thunder to unleash a devastating attack, slashing, parrying, and striking with every conceivable force, transforming his saber into a mighty river that surged endlessly.
Wei Bingyan retreated eight steps, only to find himself behind a solid wall with nowhere to go. The golden blade light before his eyes obscured the sun.
The swirling energy is still causing trouble!
Wei Bingyan's large robes billowed, his beard and hair fluttered, and his eyes shone with a fierce light—for the last time.
He raised his hand and swung his sword.
Then it shattered violently within the blade's energy, sending blood and bone fragments flying everywhere.
[Achieved the Essence Dao Fruit: Wei Bingyan (May 47th year)]
boom!!!!
In the distance, a column of air pierces the sky from the mountains.
It originates from Longshou Peak, the highest peak in Feilong Mountain.
-
Abundant earth energy permeated the air, while demonic energy rose.
Song Shen abandoned this valuable opponent, took off and flew towards the direction of the volcanic eruption.