"I have something to ask you," Chen Zheng said, glancing at him indifferently. "If I'm not mistaken, you've collected a great many bones over the past century. Where are they now?"
"Go ahead and ask," Teluos sneered. "You will never understand where our bones are. Without them, this place wouldn't exist, and you would be forced to leave."
"Guess my ass!"
Chen Zheng's mouth twitched. He raised his hand and struck with his sword—the unnamed blade sweeping across Teluos's neck.
Teluos's eyes widened as he stood frozen in place.
The genius disciple ranked second on the Heavenly List, surpassed only by Zhuo Ming, had finally fallen.
Their choice between two factions had led them down two completely different paths. After so many years, the hatred between them had become deep-rooted, with no possibility of reconciliation.
