Above the auspicious clouds.
The Holy Masters, who had no dealings with the Tian Gui Tribe, witnessed the ease with which a Holy Master, whose cultivation was similar to theirs, was cut down like paper under the Qingfeng Sword, and couldn't help but feel a sense of shared fate in the demise of another.
Yet no one pleaded for mercy.
In just half the time of an incense stick, all the Tian Gui Tribe's followers were slaughtered, and the air above the East Mountain Sect was filled with a piercing stench of blood.
The Qingfeng Sword dripped with blood.
Xu Lai looked at the brilliant Immortal's Demise streaking across the sky, slightly squinting his eyes: "Truly beautiful."
Beautiful?
Indeed, it was beautiful.
Yet beneath the splendor, blood was concealed.
At this moment.
A Holy Master cupped his fists, solemnly saying, "Supreme Emperor, may we leave now?"
"The play has just begun, stay and watch till the end."
