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Half an hour later, the windblown smoke had yet to clear completely, but the earthshaking roar of slaughter had gradually subsided.
Zheng Youde trudged deeper into the Medicinal Market in blood-soaked armor, stepping over charred rubble and congealed dark-red blood.
He regretted failing to finish off that Phantom Tiger Soul Douluo, but the beast had taken several blows from his Red Bull Fist. There was no way he had escaped without at least three or five broken ribs!
He could forget about recovering without spending a few months flat on his back.
Zheng Youde was quite satisfied with that.
In the central area, the experts from the various factions were returning from their pursuit one after another.
Zheng Youde glanced at Wang Jiamu and Water Serpent Tower Master You Jingqiao nearby. Almost simultaneously, both shook their heads slightly, a trace of helplessness in their eyes.
It seemed their respective targets had escaped as well.
He looked up. Nearly half the scorched Medicinal Herbs Administration Office building had collapsed. Before its shattered walls, Leng Qingqiu stood in white with her hands behind her back, quietly surveying the hellish devastation.
What was the old lady thinking? Zheng Youde could not fathom her.
Behind Leng Qingqiu stood the stern-faced Leng Buqun, Mao Jiyun with his slightly injured legs, and City Lord Xue Chufan, his expression solemn. The three seemed to be discussing the aftermath in low voices.
Leng Bufan was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he was outside directing the cleanup.
Not far from them stood Li Ming, Yue Jixin of the Plant Association, and Jiliao of Xuan Ye Pavilion. The latter two were both advanced Soul Saints; their organizations did not have nearly as many Soul