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From Ji Yuchuan’s account, Li Guanqi pieced together a rough picture of what had happened. No wonder he hadn’t been able to reach Xu Li on the way. From the look of it, their storage rings had all been confiscated.
By now, some of the Lu clan cultivators had noticed the two figures standing in the air some distance away.
In the center of the plaza, an old man lay face down, all four limbs broken, his aura faint. Blood had soaked through his white hair and blurred his vision. Xu Li was in despair, quietly waiting to die.
The Daxia Sword Sect had deployed a vast number of cultivators to every corner of the Six Territories, and they were only one of many such groups. The odds of anyone noticing his group’s predicament were slim. The moment...
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