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On the long street, blood ran like a river. All enemies were gone, reduced to mist and fragments, leaving only Lin Xun’s tall figure standing amidst the carnage. He, on the other hand, was spotless and unscathed.
Those watching from afar were overwhelmed with emotion, countless hearts quaking in fear.
Too strong!
In less than half the time it took for a stick of incense to burn, a single man had slaughtered hundreds of supreme Emperor Ancestors in a storm of blood. Never in the long history of Fortune Divine City had such a massacre taken place.
Who was he? How could he wield such terrifying might?
The cultivators who had trailed Lin Xun from behind felt their legs turn to water and their minds blur. They had followed him all the way from South Heaven Gate, witnessing every step, every kill. Again and again they had wanted to turn and flee. Again and again they forced themselves to stay, convinced that once the divine clans fully mobilized, Lin Xun would drown beneath their endless armies.
Now, that belief had shattered. What filled them instead was panic and suffocating fear. The silence of the street pressed down like a mountain....
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