He stood upon the shattered Human Ancestor Mountain.
Walking toward the Human Race.
The land lay scarred and ravaged.
Zhuang Shiyuan's eyes were dim and clouded, his entire body covered in Dao wounds. Recovering from such injuries would be no easier than cultivating anew to become an Eight Tribulation Immortal. He was as good as crippled. He watched Sheng Chang'an limp toward him, one step at a time.
At this moment, he no longer looked like the Human Race's rising star who had shaken the Boundless Immortal Domain—the Eight Tribulation Dao Lord. Instead, he looked like a helpless, lost young man. The Human Race's future was bleak and without light...
"...Brother Chang'an." Tears of blood flowed from the corners of Zhuang Shiyuan's eyes. His entire body trembled, and his grief shook heaven and earth. "Our Human Race... has suffered a crushing defeat."
His master had fallen in battle.
The Eight Great Ancient Clans, whose might had awed the ages for the Human Race, had sunk into the Immortal Realm. The Mountains and Rivers Blessing had been severed by the Human Dao Supreme Sword. Countless Human Race immortal sages and forebears had all perished. The Human Emperor, Alliance Master Jiang... generation after generation of immortals, those who had wielded the sword—the Human Race!
The appearance of the Human Dao Supreme Sword had severed the last trace of their will to fight to the death.
He stared fixedly at Sheng Chang'an as he approached. A barely perceptible savage twist appeared on his face. The Human Race would definitely rise again. This blood feud would definitely be repaid—blood for blood!!
Zhuang Shiyuan's thoughts were also the thoughts of most Human Race cultivators.
They had not admitted defeat. They were only afraid for the moment.
"Shiyuan, can you still stand? Sitting on your knees