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The misty formation stretching from heaven to earth tumbled noiselessly.
But in the sky, there were constant patches of eye-piercing red permeating the air and the echoing that mourned the fall of a Saint.
It just did not cease!
The eight-domain cultivators in the great formation had all frozen stiff. Chills were seeping through every pore in their body, as if they had fallen into an ice cave.
They could neither see nor touch it but still knew clearly that another supreme Saint had met their end in that huge array of mist.
Everyone’s face was filled with horror.
A hundred supreme Saints and so many True Saints are in there! But they are being slaughtered like this?!
What kind of formation is that?
Why are Saints as fragile as grass when they’re trapped in there?
“Thirty-ninth. Adding the supreme Saints who died at his hands before this, we have already lost fifty-six!” Shi Pohai’s face was livid, his eyes seemed about to pop out.
Coming here on an invitation, he had originally been somewhat scornful, thinking that Xue Qingyi was belaboring their troops by making such a grand scene.
But now, he realized why Xue Qingyi was so cauti...
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