The Imperial Dynasty Loses All Face

After hearing this, Heng Ye felt that Zheng Guang had truly gone mad.

He knew full well that the True Immortals of this world were far from simple. Zheng Guang actually wanted to fight the Fist Immortal to the bitter end—what difference was there from seeking death?

This was the Great Tai Imperial Capital. There had to be extraordinary foundations here; there was certainly more than one True Immortal stationed within.

Naturally, Heng Ye would not warn him. He wished Zheng Guang would fight for his life, struggling like a trapped beast.

He bared his teeth in a grin. Since he was about to die anyway, he naturally hoped his opponent would fare no better.

Very quickly, he could no longer smile. Someone had seized him by the throat and looked down at him indifferently. What kind of disaster-level humiliation was this? He felt an unprecedented shame.

He was the strongest inheritor of the Black Vault Ancient Cult in this era, yet Zheng Guang was carrying him around like this. He could not move at all, like a dead dog. It was truly more unbearable than killing him.

Qin Ming paid him no further attention. His other hand gripped the Kunsteel Saber, his gaze as sharp as a sword edge, ready to unleash his strongest slash at any moment.

Heng Ye wanted to say something, but he could not open his mouth. He felt the bones in his neck crack, darkness swimming before his eyes. He was about to be crushed alive, already standing at death's door.

Zheng Guang was using him as a human shield, preparing to withstand an attack from the Fist Immortal.

The old emperor, who had abdicated many years ago, fell like a meteor and smashed a huge crater into the ground. His brows were tightly