The Shaman Tribe in the distance had become a living hell. All the Shamans had turned into ashes under the Golden Crow Fires. Du Xie's eyes were about to split open. He had a pained look on his face as if thousands of arrows had pierced through his heart.
They had arrived too late. This tribe had been destroyed before they arrived.
Du Xie let out a heavy sigh.
"Go." Ou Yangming looked ahead.
Du Xie shook his head. "No, there must be a connection between them. If I go, our tracks will be exposed."
"A man can die, but he can't live without a clear conscience." Ou Yangming knew that Du Xie was suffering at this moment. If Old Craftsman or his closed ones were treated like this, even if their bones were crushed and their souls scattered, he would definitely not let the enemy live in peace.
Some things could be tolerated, but some things could not.
This was the bottom line of a person.
