A flying dagger shot from the side, piercing straight into Zhao Ziyang's temple. The handle sank in, and blood mixed with brain matter splattered out.
Zhao Ziyang was carried by the tremendous force of the throwing knife, his entire body flung like a rag doll, crashing into the tree trunk, lifeless.
His eyes were wide open, filled with terror and horror, unable to find peace in death.
"Yan'Er!"
The old man shouted loudly, heartbroken.
This was his most beloved grandson, the most outstanding among the younger generation of his lineage, reaching the Refining the Organs Realm at the young age of twenty-three.
With a few more years of training, he would soon break through to the Qi Blood Realm.
Yet he so easily died in front of him.
"Who dares spy from the shadows, show yourself!" the old man shouted loudly.
Despite his immense sorrow, he didn't dare approach Zhao Ziyang's body, instead remaining on high alert, watching his surroundings.
