After Li Longxiang left.
The tavern worker lay collapsed beneath the counter, taking a long while to recover before he dared crawl out.
Four corpses lay on the floor, each more gruesome than the last.
The worker's legs buckled, and he clung to the counter as he dry-heaved.
Before long.
A squad of Song Family cultivators stormed in.
The middle-aged man leading them wore close-fitting martial attire, his face steeped in viciousness.
He was Song Wenting, the Song Family's Third Master.
A cultivator at qi and blood great accomplishment.
Even in the prefectural capital, where experts gathered like clouds, he was a figure of considerable renown.
At the sight of the headless corpse still bleeding on the floor.
Song Wenting recognized him at once.
His pupils abruptly contracted.
"Ninth Brother!!!"
Song Wenting cried out.
He hurried forward.
Crouching down, he gathered the headless corpse into his arms, his body shaking violently.
Not from fear.
But from fury.
Song Jiu was a member of the Song Family's direct line.
And an expert in the qi and blood realm.
Powerful though the Song Family was, they had only twenty-odd qi and blood realm cultivators in total.
The death of even one was an enormous loss to the Song Family.
And he had died so horribly.
Not even an intact corpse remained.
This was a slap in the Song Family's face.
"Where is he?"
Song Wenting rose abruptly and looked at the still-trembling waiter, his voice icy.
A savage-looking Song Family cultivator immediately stepped forward.
His sharp saber slid from its sheath and pressed against the waiter's neck.
Feeling the cold steel against his neck.
The waiter trembled even harder.
Pointing outside, he stammered, "He... he left, but... before he left... he told me to pass on a message..."
Song Wenting narrowed his