Chu Zhiyuan glanced at the two men.
Their facial muscles twisted, as if worms were crawling under their skin.
"Prince Consort," Lan Mingxuan's voice remained calm and composed.
Despite the effort, he maintained his poise.
Chu Zhiyuan first concentrated to sense if there was any danger, then chuckled, "Thank you. I'll head in then."
"Please, Prince Consort."
"Farewell."
Chu Zhiyuan stepped into the Light Gate.
The Light Gate immediately shone brightly, then vanished.
"Boom-boom!"
Lan Mingxuan and Wu Xun flew out, spewing blood arrows in the air, and landed limply on the ground.
They collapsed beneath a giant rock, leaning against it, gasping heavily without moving.
White clouds drifted leisurely, and the breeze blew gently.
They stared blankly, without speaking a word.
After a while, Wu Xun's dry voice sounded, "Will he gain anything?"
"Difficult." Lan Mingxuan's voice was deep, he spoke slowly, "Without a bloodline, it's all in vain."
