The attack that landed on Li Lun was filled with the full force of the divine Dao power.
The world regained rare tranquility as fierce beasts that had lost their rationally regained their senses after Li Lun died. Then, they gradually retreated.
As a gust of strong wind blew the pungent smell of blood and corpses away from the city wall and forest, the red lotus cultivators stared at Lu Zhou, who was hovering in the air, unblinkingly.
Smoke continued to billow in the air.
The corpses on the ground and the dazzling blood spoke of the tragedy and tears that were common during war.
Another war was destined to be added into the ancient records of history.
Tens of thousands of people, including Ying Long; Sikong Beichen; and Nie Qingyun, stared at the scene before them in a daze. At this moment, none of them seemed to care if Li Lun, the remnant ancient Saint slayer, was dead or not.
