The saber, shaken clean of blood, finally returned to its sheath.
Shi Chun had not intended to kill the two so soon. He had planned to keep them as hostages for a while longer. After all, his business with Huyan Dao was not yet over, and he could still bring out Huyan Dao's two junior brothers to threaten him when needed.
Since they still had some use, there was no hurry to dispose of them.
But Chao Zhilin's opening shout had changed his decision completely. Mao Zhong had also seen the demonic qi, and keeping these hostages among a crowd was indeed unsafe. So he simply finished them both off.
Xiang Lan'er soon understood why Shi Chun had raised his saber and brought it down. Chao Zhilin's shout earlier had unnerved her too.
There was no need to search the bodies on the ground. Wu Jinliang had already stripped them clean when they were captured, so this time, they did not embarrass themselves in front of everyone.
The three figures in the mirror image rode their Wind Scales swiftly into the sky and departed.
The Tournament Grounds, bustling with voices moments earlier, abruptly fell silent again. Everyone stared blankly.
Luo Feilie, an elder of the Origin Sword Palace, once again became the man who shot to his feet. The flesh on his face could be seen trembling.
The two disciples beside him also rose one after the other, their faces filled with indignation.
Elder Ke, Yin Huixin, and the Mount Wukang disciple accompanying them were utterly dumbfounded as they watched the mirror image. It felt as though Mount Wukang had inexplicably fallen into a very, very deep pit this time, and the moment they tried to climb out, a huge rock came crashing down.
Hidden beneath her cloak, Feng Chi