"Ahh!" "Ahh!"
People cried out in agony.
One by one, the elders of Broken Sword Mountain were smashed into bits.
Wan Qingzi was at the most front. When he turned around to look, he became livid. However, he dared not turn around to protect his people. He could only run even faster.
Boom!
In front of them, a mountain peak suddenly cracked open, and a huge golden ship appeared. Many figures stood on top of it; they were Broken Sword Mountain disciples.
An elder stood at the bow of the ship. He was one of the elders that had gone to the back of the mountain earlier.
"Quick! Get on the ship!" He roared anxiously.
Wan Qingzi leaped up and landed on the ship. Then, the surviving elders reached there too.
They turned around and looked with sorrowful and indignant expressions.
Broken Sword Mountain had been established for thousands of years, and they had never been forced on a mass exodus.
