Tianfeng tribe, ancestral shrine.
Whoosh!
When Feng Yuan and Feng Changqing arrived on the spiritual boat, they looked forward and saw that the ancestral temple was already filled with people. Many tribesmen had gathered and all of them had sorrowful expressions.
In the middle of the hall of the ancestral shrine was a coffin.
At this moment, everyone's expression was extremely heavy.
The leader of the Tianfeng tribe, Feng Zhentian, led the tribe members and knelt respectfully in the mourning hall. There was no noise at all.
Pin-drop silence.
Other than that, on both sides of the mourning hall were two elders with deep auras. They were the two remaining Divine Wheel realm patriarchs of the Tianfeng tribe.
At this moment, they were silent. They quietly stared at the coffin in the center of the ancestral shrine, helplessness and sighs flowing in their old eyes. But more so was worry.
