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Above, the blood-red clouds twisted into the shape of a sword.
"To greet me with such small fry, how disappointing."
The sword of bloodlight fell.
"Die."
A storm of crimson blades rained from the heavens like meteors. Before the echo of that single word faded, all sixty Mythwalkers were dead, falling like dumplings into the streets below.
Every witness was struck dumb.
One strike to kill sixty Mythwalkers? How is this real?
Even the hat man whispered hoarsely, "I take back what I said. He didn't sneak in because he didn't need to."
The scarred man muttered, "He's almost as strong as the Violet Heaven Maiden herself."
Then, a blood-robed figure descended, handsome beyond reason, with a crimson mark gleaming between his brows.
Qi Yuan...
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