Amid the ruins, Mu En knelt on one knee, motionless for a long time.
His gaze swept over the corpses littering the ground—Xuan Zi, nine Title Douluo, Ma Xiaotao, countless students. Shrek Academy's foundation of ten thousand years had been destroyed overnight.
Only he remained.
He raised his head and looked toward the direction in which the three figures had vanished. There was no anger or grief in his eyes, only emptiness.
"Shrek..." His voice was hoarse. "This old man... has failed his ancestors..."
He lowered his head and said nothing more.
The night wind swept through the ruins, carrying a heavy stench of blood.
In the distance, three figures flew at high speed.
Zhongli Wu's face was grim as he clutched the wound on his chest. Long Xiaoyao remained silent, blood still seeping from the arrow wounds on his shoulder and waist. Ye Xishui's aura was weak, and her entire body was scorched black.
But they were alive.
Ma Xiaotao was dead. Shrek had fallen. They were alive.
That was enough.
"That old bastard Mu En..." Zhongli Wu gritted his teeth. "Once he dies, the Holy Spirit Cult will have no more rivals."
Long Xiaoyao said nothing.
Ye Xishui said nothing either.
The three continued flying onward.
Just as they were about to cross a mountain ridge—
A beam of purple light descended from the heavens and blocked their path.
The three stopped at the same time.
It was a woman in a long purple dress, an oppressive aura swirling around her that made it hard to breathe. She stood there without moving, yet all three peak powerhouses froze in place.
That aura—
A god.
It was a god.
Long Xiaoyao's pupils contracted violently.
Ye Xishui's body began to tremble.
Zhongli Wu's face instantly turned deathly pale.
"Y-you...