Wushang crushed the heart and withdrew his hand. He glanced in Lu Yin's direction, a trace of wariness flashing in his eyes, then leaped away and disappeared. From beginning to end, he hadn't spared Hua Ying and the others a glance.
The moment Xun Meiren saw Night King Changfeng's corpse, she could hardly believe it. Night King Changfeng wasn't weak, nor was he the kind of person who fought to the death rather than retreat. And yet he'd been killed—with his abdomen pierced and his heart gone.
She looked around in terror. Hearing the roars of numerous zombies, she felt a chill run through her.
"Outsiders, die!" Li Zimo had appeared at some point. While Xun Meiren was panicking, he thrust out his sword. The strike was invisible and soundless. By the time Xun Meiren saw it, the blade had already pierced her throat.
Xun Meiren stared blankly at Li Zimo's cold expression. She hadn't expected to die here.
Li Zimo withdrew his sword and charged off elsewhere.
On the shattered ground of Ming Capital, Lu Yin looked northwest in surprise. Night King Changfeng and Xun Meiren were both dead. He hadn't seen how Night King Changfeng had died, but Xun Meiren had actually been killed by a single strike from Li Zimo. This man really was cold-blooded. Xun Meiren had been quite beautiful.
But only someone like him could have created the Silent Word Sword, right? Lu Yin had compared their skills before. Li Zimo's swordsmanship was inferior to Liu Shaoqiu's because Liu Shaoqiu had inherited the Thirteen Swords and the wisdom of those who came before him. If the two were placed on equal footing, Li Zimo might not be inferior to Liu Shaoqiu—in fact, he might even be stronger.
"Seventh Brother, are we still fighting?" Ghost Marquis