The Xuanming Domain on the ninth column had completely dissipated.
The Holy Son of Xuanming lay on the platform, his body charred and emitting black smoke, wilted like a toasted turtle, devoid of any dignity expected of a Holy Son.
Atop the giant tortoise, Xuan Ye watched the scene with an expressionless face, after all, with so many external forces present, one had to maintain composure.
However, the ominous glint in his eyes and the slight trembling of his fingers revealed just how infuriated and distressed this prince of the Xuanwu Divine Dynasty was.
Not even a single touch!
And he had been beaten to such a state.
Moreover, at the beginning, he had arrogantly told Mu Fusheng that he could not possibly break his defense.
And what happened? Literally,
In just two strikes, he was laid out on the ground like a dead dog.
The students from the other factions below had initially thought of taking Mu Fusheng as an easy target.
