When the Adepti and Yakshas arrived and saw the scene, every one of them went rigid, rooted to the spot in shock.
No one had ever imagined that the outrageous rumor would become reality.
Guizhong and Marchosius really had died on the Guili Plains.
After overwhelming grief, Morax erupted in the greatest fury he had ever known.
His whole body trembled uncontrollably, his pupils dilating and contracting, his heartbeat booming like thunder.
His nails dug into the flesh of his clenched fists, his teeth ground audibly, and his mind went blank. His face twisted like that of a savage beast.
"Who..."
"Who did this?"
He spoke through gritted teeth, one word at a time, an immense aura bursting from his body.
Everyone was stunned. The people of the Guili Plains stumbled several steps backward in fright, staring at Morax with terror written across their faces.
Some even found their legs trembling involuntarily.
The aura unleashed by Morax, who had fought for a thousand years, was terrifying, far beyond what ordinary people could withstand.
The only reason they could still stand there was that Morax had not directed it at them. Even its residual force had left them shaking all over.
"I..."
"I saw it..."
After a long while, a deathly pale man slowly stepped out of the crowd.
Anyone who could step forward at a moment like this deserved to be called courageous.
As soon as he spoke, Morax and the others all turned their eyes toward him. The man shrank back. Already badly frightened, he now began trembling from head to toe.
Seeing the man's condition, Morax turned his head away and stopped looking at him.
The Adepti and Yakshas followed suit, all turning their backs to the man.
They did so to avoid making him even more nervous