Taihua heard the roar from the distant wasteland, the dark clouds seemed to coalesce into a pitch-black Qilin, the exploding thunder like its stern vertical pupils, overlooking the vast earth.
As the strongest in the Human World, she could certainly sense from whom that imposing aura emanated.
So violent, so dignified.
Yet, to her, it felt somewhat warm.
With her hands behind her back, she gazed at the Qilin, a golden light curtain hovering behind her, stirring ripples wide and far, while numerous ominous Iron Swords emerged from the void, their edges sharp and exposed.
"Master, that's an Ancient God Clan."
The Golden King knelt halfway on the ground, hands resting on a broken Iron Sword, his bare upper body covered with shocking sword marks, as hot blood flowed out, staining the earth red.
