Thousands of thunders roared, changing the color of heaven and earth.
The oppressive might rolled up fierce winds, causing the mountains and forests within hundreds of miles to sway wildly, producing a continuous rustling sound.
The last remaining soldier in talismanic armor looked at Qi Xiu approaching with large strides, his face pale with fright, legs trembling uncontrollably as cold sweat dripped from his chin.
His entire back was already drenched with sweat.
Although he couldn't discern the young Daoist's cultivation, the terrifying Thunder Magic alone suggested this person was at least a great cultivator of the Blood-Stained Realm.
What rotten luck! How could it be so coincidental...
Bitterness of regret filled his mouth. The soldier in talismanic armor hadn't expected that merely stopping a few Dao-Entering Realm junior cultivators to extort some Dao Gold would provoke a true grand cultivator of the Blood-Stained Realm.
"Are you… Uncle-Master Qi Xiu?"
