Ye Chen had gone completely berserk. Man or woman, young or old, he showed no mercy. He had meant what he said: these wretched parasites would all die.
Saint Basande hurriedly hid behind the crowd in terror. His steward, Raymond, stayed close beside him. At first, Raymond remained fairly calm.
But after seeing Ye Chen's brutal methods, even Raymond was shaken. Skilled as he was, he could not help feeling wary.
Ye Chen had crushed the skulls of countless Celestial Dragons, leaving bloody holes in their heads.
Even as he killed, Ye Chen could not stop worrying about Hancock's injuries. He wanted to end this quickly and take her away.
He kicked, sending a crescent-shaped blade of air flying from his foot. Bloody wounds opened across the waists of more than a dozen Celestial Dragons in the distance. The Rankyaku kept going, hurling several more people into the air.
Before they could land, Ye Chen leaped up among them. His figure flashed past like a ghost, his sharp fingers raking across their bodies. He slit some throats, tore through others' breastbones, and drove his hand straight into the organs of still others.
Blood sprayed everywhere. Its stench filled the air.
Ye Chen did not stop. Before long, more than half the Celestial Dragons in the room had fallen. The rest no longer dared run for the door. They had given up hope of escaping.
They trembled from head to toe. Many wet their pants, while others rolled their eyes back and fainted at the sight of the blood-soaked corpses.
Ye Chen spat on the floor in contempt and Kongming stepped up to a Celestial Dragon. "Spare me!" the man shouted. "Don't kill me!"
"Which one is Saint Basande? Tell me. Now."
Ye Chen grabbed the man by the collar and