The three of the Neal family swiftly departed, leaving behind the less fortunate aboriginal martial artists.
These individuals weren't under Braydon Neal's protection.
The violet-clothed youth's spiritual body showed no mercy, ensuring that they faced consequences.
Even the hundreds of martial artists from prominent families couldn't evade death, as the five-colored altar absorbed their vitality, turning them into sacrifices—an ominous practice known as the evil method of human sacrifice, typically confined to ancient ruins.
On their way back, Lowell Neal's gaze betrayed a faint sense of shock.
He found himself puzzled by the martial arts his eldest nephew had mastered.
However, he refrained from asking, respecting the notion that everyone harbored secrets.
"Grandpa," Braydon spoke softly, "Once we're home, I'll brew some spiritual medicine to help you calm your nerves. You should recover in a few days."
