“Surrender? Too late!”0

Chen Fan looked at Zhao Wuji indifferently, making no move.0

The crowd outside also looked at Zhao Wuji with pity.0

Surrender?0

As Chen Fan had said, it was too late.0

“Hmm?” Zhao Wuji was confused by Chen Fan’s words, puzzled by his inaction. What did that mean?1

He quickly understood. Darkness clouded his vision, and a bloody hole appeared on his glabella.0

Chen Fan’s sword had already pierced his glabella, annihilating his divine soul before Zhao Wuji had even shouted his surrender. He had been unaware.0

 “So…” The light in Zhao Wuji’s eyes faded away, and he plummeted from the sky limply.0

Perhaps he hadn’t expected...0