On the bloodied grass patch in the restricted zone, Wang Baole's figure emerged. He had already changed his top, and the armor made from the fragments from the puppets had been removed from his body. He was just wearing a simple Ethereal Dao College Daoist robe.
His slightly rotund body had significantly slimmed down after experiencing the ordeals, and even his face looked more chiseled than before.
That was especially so as a look of peace was exuded from his eyes. It was like the calm night sky before a storm. It seemed deep, and at the same time carried a scary and heavily suppressed madness.
He held the seventh-grade Dharmic Armament in his hands as hurricanes erupted around him. Behind him, the figure of a crocodile appeared amidst the blood-stained restricted zone.
