After bidding farewell to Xu Mang and his two companions, Xiao Chen didn't pause for a moment, pouring all his green combat Qi into his legs and taking off at full speed towards the human tribe facing disaster, his body transforming into a streak of light.
As for the previous killing of Wang Yi and another, he bore no emotional burden. He killed them because they deserved it. After nearly a year, there were times when he couldn't distinguish in his mind whether he was the archaeologist Xiao Chen from the cerulean sphere or the tribal chief who could decide life and death with a word on this ancient, vast continent.
On this continent, countless human tribesmen had bled for it from ancient times to the present, their ancient, primitive ancestors battling against heaven and earth, living together on this same land. Unintentionally, even he himself hadn't realized that this ancient belief had been deeply etched into his mind and ingrained into his blood.
