He pushed open the grand doors.
Inside the doors lay ruins; all furniture had been reduced to fragments, and the walls bore sword marks everywhere. Had the great hall not been relatively sturdy and had both parties not intentionally controlled their power, this building would have collapsed long ago.
Xu Xuan's action of pushing the door attracted the attention of two people.
"Oh? Someone else has come to seek death." Hong Zhongwei's brow furrowed, and he suddenly had an epiphany.
No wonder such a commotion had arisen, as if his subordinates had died without charging forward—it turned out there were others present.
The two people behind him couldn't help but shiver when they saw someone clad in silver, wielding a pale bone sword.
Divine weapons were well known to all by their distinct features; they recognized them at a glance as the mithril armor and the Pale Bone Sword.
Whoosh!
Hong Zhongwei transformed into a streak of afterimage.
He rapidly closed in on Xu Xuan.
