The instant Geman died, the moonlight from the bright full moon hanging high in the dream sky gradually began to turn red. A shadow descended from the heavens—an extraordinary sight that appeared only after the previous dream agent had died.
How could one describe Its appearance?
The moon monster's face seemed to wear a bizarre mask, yet the mask itself held no meaning related to any sphere of human culture. The irregular holes on it resembled the moon. At this moment, Zhang Yu held beauties on both sides, his palms unconsciously gliding up and down their bodies.
If the heart was in it, even bitter tea could taste exquisite; if the heart was not, even Biluochun would reveal no flavor. The principle was simple—it depended on how one understood it.
The high-frequency battle just now had left Lin Ying and the others weak all over. The breath they had been holding suddenly leaked out, as though their bones had been hollowed away.
Yan Shuangdao showed no restraint and directly unleashed his unique blade domain. Before even drawing his blade, he launched a sonic attack against Lin Tian's soul. Anyone with slightly weaker cultivation would become dazed and helplessly submit to slaughter merely by being enveloped in his blade domain.
Stabbing with the dagger was the assassin's instinctive reaction. Other than that, he had no time to do anything else. He could only watch Fu Yan punch him in the temple. His head instantly went dizzy, his eyes rolled back, and his body went limp as he collapsed.
Lin Tian was impressed. He gasped heavily, his limbs sore and weak, wishing he could collapse on the ground and sleep soundly.
The treasures flying all over the sky outside the sanctuary made everyone's eyes burn with desire and drew them all outside.