At Taifu Golden Summit, this time it was no longer Elder Bai's tiny Affairs Department, but Fuqiu Hall, used for grand deliberations and sacrifices.
Fuqiu Hall enshrined Duke Fuqiu, the founding patriarch of the Zhanglong Sect. Liu Xiaolou had never entered this great hall before, but today, he was finally led inside.
The one leading him in was not Oldest Sixth, the familiar steward who received guests. Oldest Sixth could only wait beneath the steps outside the hall at this moment, unqualified to enter.
The one who led him into the hall was Qu Xuan, the most renowned of the Zhanglong Sect's younger generation.
However, Enlai Ke had indeed not lied. Ever since that fierce battle with Long Yi, when he shattered the Sword of the God of Death in Long Yi's hand, he had suddenly gained a deeper understanding of magical fluctuations.
Lin Feng was filled with endless emotion. Lowering his head again, he saw that Kangxi's breath had long since ceased. There was a peaceful expression on his pale face. Once the most honored man in the world, he was now merely a corpse.
From the center of the explosion, two figures shot off in opposite directions. In midair, both men spat out blood at the same time. Nie Cheng's energy had already been exhausted; he was now relying only on his final thread of strength to keep his body suspended in the sky.
Yao Ji fell silent. She suddenly loathed the utterly phony Ouchi Yoshihiro before her to the extreme. She did not want to see him even once more.
You had to know that they were not like me. Their skill proficiency could only improve through constant use. If I wanted these people to become useful in the shortest possible time, then the choice of skills