All the disciples were restless, and their expressions were anxious and ugly.
This was very normal. In the face of death, if one could really remain calm, then they were not ordinary people.
It would be fine if death had suddenly descended, but now that he was so close to death and yet not dead, waiting for death was a torture that was even more painful than death.
Even if these disciples were all favored by the heavens, at this time, they were no different from ordinary people.
However, a thirteen or fourteen-year-old girl looked up at the sky above the palace, through the destructive attack, and looked up at the void with a calm smile on her face. She was still so calm in the face of death, far surpassing ordinary people.
The girl's name was Wang Xiaoman. She was a direct descendant of the Wang family and had already reached the first rank of the Martial Arts Grandmaster.
