Murong Feng darted through the dense forest, his black brocade robe torn in several places by branches, but he had no time to care. There was only one thought in his mind—run, as far away as possible.
He had never imagined that the coup he had painstakingly plotted for years would collapse completely less than an hour after it began. Five Blood Fiend Sect elders and one Netherworld Valley elder had all died at the hands of a young man named Shen Xiu and his companion. They were Saint Venerable Realm experts, overlords wherever they went, yet they had been slaughtered by the other side as easily as cutting melons and chopping vegetables.
"Who exactly is that man in the blue robe?" Murong Feng thought frantically. The scene of Lin Fan making his move was carved deeply into his mind—with a light squeeze, Netherworld Elder's wrist had broken; with a single press, Netherworld Elder's soul had been wiped out. Even a ninth-level Saint Venerable Realm expert could not possess such power. Could that man be in the Saint Emperor Realm?
At that thought, Murong Feng's heart turned utterly cold. The Saint Emperor Realm was an existence absent from the entire Tian Yuan Dynasty. If that man truly was in the Saint Emperor Realm, then let alone staging a coup today, even escaping alive would be in question.
Urgent hoofbeats and shouts came from behind him. Murong Zhan's men were pursuing him. Murong Feng gritted his teeth, pulled a black jade talisman from his robes, and crushed it hard.
Black light surged from the shattered jade talisman and wrapped around his body. Then, like a ghostly apparition, he vanished from where he stood. This was the teleportation talisman the Dark Church had given him. In a crisis, it could instantly send