Song Changsheng's icy, threatening words echoed in all directions.
The world was terrifyingly silent; even the cold winter wind had ceased its howling.
Song Daoling, his hair disheveled, knelt halfway on the hard, cold floor as crimson blood flowed into a stream.
Fear, fury, shame...
He did not know what words could describe his feelings at that moment. Back then, he had still been able to fight Song Changsheng to a mutual defeat, yet now, even after launching a sneak attack with a secret treasure, he had been gravely wounded by a single strike.
The sensation of a blade's edge brushing past his heart was suffocating. It felt as though he had once again taken a trip through the Gates of Hell at Song Changsheng's hands.
Even if the other man was only at the Middle Golden Core Stage, the gap between them was as vast as clouds and mud. He even suspected that, even if Song Minghuang personally acted, victory would not necessarily be assured.
He did not even dare lift his head again, for fear of meeting Song Changsheng's eyes.
He was now completely certain that the reactivated Mountain Protection Array could not stop Song Changsheng's advance. That meant the other man could take his life at any moment.
Yet Song Changsheng had not done so. Just as he had said, he had merely taught him a lesson.
He did not feel fortunate for having survived.
Fear engulfed him like a rising tide. At that moment, he realized something even more terrifying.
Song Changsheng had spared him not out of mercy, much less because of that bullshit kinship between clansmen. His final words had clearly been meant to leave him abandoned by all, turning him into a lonely man reviled by his own blood relatives.
Then, on a