The wind, Chang Feng dispersed.
Blood, the blood had dried.
After a battle, Heaven and Earth were vast and tumultuous, the sword roars directed toward the Western winds, leaving behind only a ground littered with wounded and unclaimed skeletons.
Jiang Dali sat on the back of Demon Hawk, retracting his gaze from the Forbidden City.
One of his eyes was now covered by a makeshift eye patch of black cloth, while his other eye looked down with a chilly expression at his muscular, bulging chest.
The True Qi within his body slowly circulated and then burst forth with force.
Hissing—
At once, the residual needle-shaped Qi Force forced its way out through his pores.
Every bit of needle-shaped Qi Force expelled carried with it a trail of blood, causing Wang Yuyan beside him to shriek softly, no longer as frail as before, but nonetheless secretly panic-stricken at the sight.
