Aftermath

Yet every great battle left behind aftershocks, and this time, the aftershocks were rather immense.

Deep within Void Space.

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"

Streams of light streaked through the lonely, pitch-black Void Space, faintly emanating powerful auras. They were Hun Qianmo and his group.

At the center of the group, Hun Qianmo hurried onward with a dark expression on his aged face.

How was he supposed to explain this to the clan after returning? Hun Miesheng was dead. He might be able to wash his hands of it, but the clan's accountability would inevitably fall upon him. What was he to do?

Just as Hun Qianmo's thoughts raced, a Three-Star Dou Sheng of the Soul Clan at the front of the group suddenly shouted, "Who goes there? How dare you cause trouble for our Soul Clan?!"

At that sharp cry, the well-trained Soul Clan experts immediately raised their guard.

"Are you courting death?!"

Still unable to vent the anger in his heart, Hun Qianmo shoved through the crowd and flew straight to the front of the group.

A hundred zhang ahead of the Soul Clan's formation stood a figure in azure robes, hands clasped behind his back.

Perhaps the Three-Star Dou Sheng's fierce shout had roused him. The azure-robed figure slowly lifted his head, revealing a face that was not exceptionally handsome, yet always carried an indescribable charm.

Hun Qianmo, who had been about to fly into a rage, froze the instant he saw that face. His expression changed drastically as he muttered, "Impossible!"

"Are you Hun Qianmo?"

The azure-robed man studied Hun Qianmo with interest for a moment before smiling lightly.

His voice rang exceptionally clearly beside every Soul Clan expert's ears, carrying an unusual sense of ancient vicissitude.

"Xiao Xuan? It's you... you're Xiao Xuan!!"

Hun Qianmo's teeth chattered