Braydon Neal turned and left, moving at full speed.
If it hadn't been for the help of the three-leaf grass...
Braydon might have lost his life here.
In an instant, his severed arm regenerated at the wound.
He fled alone, covering hundreds of thousands of miles.
In the distance, a sect rested on a floating mountain continent—the Dlael Spiritual Sect.
"Who is it?!" A furious roar echoed from a palace on the mountain. "Who killed my son!"
The angry voice, filled with deadly intent, belonged to the Great Elder of the Dlael Spiritual Sect.
For transcendents, it was extremely difficult to have children.
The Great Elder had poured hope into his son, who had reached the fourth level at a young age, with the potential to achieve high-level transcendence and match his own level.
But now, he was dead.
