The wind stilled, and the clouds fell silent.
The crimson flames filling the sky slowly receded. Of the Purple Nether Clan's Ancestral Land, once stretching for hundreds of millions of miles, nothing remained but a charred black wasteland.
Immortal palaces and jade towers had turned to ash. Spirit herbs and exotic beasts had all been annihilated. Even the air carried a faint scorched smell, along with a lingering trace of an Immortal King's origin aura.
Su Muyue stood above the clouds, her eyes wide as she stared blankly at the devastation below, unable to recover her senses for a long while.
The Purple Nether Clan.
An established powerful clan that had occupied the western side of the central region and oppressed the Great Wilderness lineage for hundreds of thousands of years.
A looming menace that, relying on an ancestor who was a seventh-revolution Immortal King, had repeatedly encroached upon their territory and slaughtered their people.
It had... simply vanished?
From the moment Lu Qingyun made his move until the dust settled, not even half the time it took to burn an incense stick had passed.
Forget fighting to the death—they had not even mounted a decent resistance.
A seventh-revolution Immortal King magnate had his head crushed with a single slap.
Billions upon billions of clan members had been refined clean away in a furnace.
Such power had already surpassed everything she knew about Immortal Kings.
Yet after the shock subsided, not a trace of joy at reclaiming lost land appeared on Su Muyue's face. Instead, it was covered in deep worry.
Biting her lower lip, she hurried to Lu Qingyun's side, urgency in her voice.
"We need to leave, quickly!"
"The native great clans of the Lost World are all branches from the same tree. News of the Purple Nether