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Half an hour later, though the smoke and dust had yet to fully disperse, the earth-shaking sounds of slaughter had gradually died away.
Zheng Youde dragged his blood-soaked armor through charred rubble and congealed dark red stains, heading deeper into the medicine market.
It was somewhat regrettable that he had failed to keep Wanghu Soul Douluo there, but that beast had at least taken several of his Crimson Bull Fists. There was no way three to five of his ribs had not been broken!
Without lying in bed for a few months, he could forget about making a full recovery.
Zheng Youde was quite satisfied with that.
In the central area, the experts from the various families who had gone in pursuit had already returned one after another.
Zheng Youde's gaze swept over Wang Jiamu and the Water Serpent Tower Master, You Jingqiao, not far away. The two of them shook their heads almost at the same time, a trace of helplessness in their eyes.
It seemed their respective targets had also gotten away.
He looked up. The scorched medicine management office building had already collapsed by nearly half. Before the broken walls and ruins, Leng Qingqiu stood in white robes with his hands behind his back, calmly gazing at this hellish wreckage.
What was the old master thinking? Zheng Youde could not see through him.
Behind Leng Qingqiu stood the cold-faced Leng Buqun, Mao Jiyun with his slightly impaired legs, and the solemn-looking City Lord Xue Chufan. The three of them seemed to be speaking quietly about the aftermath matters.
Leng Bufan was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he was outside directing the cleanup of the remaining mess.
Not far from them were Li Ming,