Within the city, the dust had yet to settle.
The golden light of the Spirit-Suppressing Stele finally faded.
Below the ruined city walls, countless players gazed up at the distant sky.
There, high above the clouds, a few figures were gathered, dividing the spoils.
Those were masters who could manifest colossal avatars—beings completely beyond the reach of ordinary players like them!
And now, the corpses, souls, and magical treasures of those Nascent Soul Patriarchs were being divvied up, some pocketed, some tossed into a furnace, others stuffed into a coffin.
On the ground, a player named OneSwordSettlesAll looked at the half-broken iron sword in his hand, then glanced at the distant platinum avatar receding into Lin Qingfeng's body.
He was so excited, the hand gripping his sword was trembling.
'No matter what! A win is a win!'
