Shanghuang Tribe.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Arrows tore through the air. By the time Huang Yun, bristling with arrows, had killed another dozen or so tribesmen, he finally fell from the heights.
Blood gushed from his mouth, and clarity returned to his eyes.
"Iron... Iron Wood... Don't touch... Shang... Shanghu..."
Huang Yun still wanted to say something, but his head tilted aside, and the words never left his mouth.
Huang Yang's legs seemed filled with molten iron as he slowly shuffled toward Huang Yun.
"Chieftain!"
Weeping rose among the tribespeople.
Women and children sobbed quietly, while the young and strong stood bewildered, unable to understand why the tribe, which had clearly been on the verge of flourishing, had suddenly plunged into an abyss.
The chieftain, the ancestral shrine, the elders, the Mountain Opening Realm martial artists—more than half were dead or wounded...
What had happened?
"Go get the Beast Oil!"
Huang Yang spoke tremblingly, then suddenly roared like a madman, "Go get the Beast Oil! Burn it! Burn it all for me!"
As he spoke, he rushed into the distance, staggering as he rummaged about for oil jars.
"Burn all the Iron Wood!"
Every tribesman who had touched the Iron Wood, especially those who had followed Huang Yun to the market ruins to carry it back, was already dead.
After crashing into countless objects, Huang Yang, his hair in disarray, suddenly raised his head. "Tie me up quickly, with the strongest ropes."
"I touched the Iron Wood too."
"Burn the Iron Wood!"
"Kill me."
But Huang Yang's words came too late.
The veins on his exposed arm swelled, then began spreading across his entire body.
"Mother, I'm so itchy."
"Why have bloody lumps grown on me?"
In only a moment, many people began scratching frantically all over their bodies. Some had