"Just you wait, Taoist. We'll see if your Taoist Sect disciples survive the day."
He abruptly withdrew the jet-black long spear in his hand, the piercing shriek of its tip slicing through the air still echoing in the ears of those present.
His figure retreated several yards like a phantom. As his black robes billowed, he vanished into the shadows of an alley. All that remained was his chilling killing intent, like a viper flicking its tongue, locked onto Xu Yunfan, who was still being infused with and cleansed by the Profound Yellow Qi.
The Destiny of the nation was the fuel, and at this moment, it was being rendered into Xu Yunfan's very bones and sinews as if by the Taoist Sect's raging fire.
They were seizing the Destiny of the Great Zhou to strengthen one of their own. He was loyal to the Great Zhou—how could the sight not make his eyes burn red, the killing intent in his chest roiling like thunder?
But what was done, was done. Anything more would be pointless.
