Suspended in midair, Ye Luo coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood, his body heavily crashing to the ground. Then he spat out another mouthful of blood. His body was seriously damaged, and his True Qi within became utterly chaotic.
A white-haired elder stood quietly in front of Ye Luo, his face creased with wrinkles, his expression indifferent, and his entire being emitted a profound aura. It was his palm strike that had just landed.
"Yan…"
At this moment, Ye Luo's eyes were blood-red as he watched the long knife about to fall on Yan Ling's head, his heart bursting with raging fury and boundless sorrow.
As for Yan Ling, she revealed a desolate smile, her expression carrying a hint of remembrance, reluctance, and infinite yearning…
Bang!
Just when Ye Luo felt like his heart was shattering, a figure clad in black suddenly appeared behind the Wu Family Guard holding the steel knife, a dagger in hand tracing a cold gleam.
