The immortal art Zhurong also generated a powerful suction force, pulling everything around it toward the center of the True Fire Storm.
However, from her tightly clenched fists and the slight sorrow rarely revealed in her eyes, it was clear that the Bloody Prince was far from calm.
"You—of all times to come, you just had to barge in at the most crucial moment." The old man spoke angrily to Yang Zhan.
In a quiet room, the light was somewhat dim, but her alluring body could be vaguely seen swaying. Her pearly teeth were clenched tightly, as if she were enduring some kind of pain. Her long, snow-white legs were raised high, turning the entire shape of her body into an elegant arc.
The boatman then lifted Murong Yunzhen onto the mule and slapped its flank. The mule carried Murong Yunzhen onward.
At this moment, two more figures were following behind the Destroyer. Their forms kept flashing into existence in various places as they "dug" clumps of Green Scaled Zombie corpses, reduced to bloody, mangled flesh, out of the ground.
"Jiang Li! From now on, you are my flying sword!" Feeling the aura within Jiang Li, identical to his own, Han Dao gently brushed his left hand over the ancient sword's body.
"You don't need to concern yourself with my affairs. I only saw that you were young and had some ability. I didn't want to see you die, so I followed you to offer a few words of advice."
Yang Tian was not a rigid old monk but a young man in his early twenties, brimming with vitality. Naturally, everyone at Tuoma Temple held him in such high regard.
The intelligent brain's warning suddenly sounded. Han Dao was overjoyed, immediately sat up, and looked into the distance.
The ground