"Good!"
"Good!"
"Good!"
"You seem angry."
"Can't you take it?"
Yi Chen's expression was ice-cold as he rampaged through the ancient town like a bulldozer.
Blazing like a cyan sun, he illuminated half of the ancient town. Anything in his path, be it courtyard walls or big trees, faced the wrath of his powerful punches.
For a time, he plowed through the land, creating long, narrow trenches everywhere, leaving it scarred.
Wherever he went, fierce fires ignited, and walls crumbled and houses collapsed.
The glow of the fire lit up the entire town.
"Taoist master, my lord, please slow down, slow down. Don't tear it down," someone begged.
"That evil spirit has been agitated by you to the brink of madness."
"So many, so many zombies are rushing toward us."
At this point, Ning Feixue had lost his previous noble son demeanor; his hair was disheveled, and his expression panicked.
