Dead silence.
At this moment, Wang Xingba was still frozen in his slashing pose.
A breeze blew by, carrying a faint whiff of blood into Wang Xingba's nostrils.
A sense of ominous premonition suddenly surfaced in Wang Xingba's heart.
[Could it be that my second uncle has suffered a heavy injury?]
He immediately panicked and stepped forward.
"Second Uncle,"
"Second Uncle, say something, Second Uncle."
"What's wrong, Second Uncle?"
Wang Xingba came in front of Wang Xingba, his face filled with urgency.
Only to see Wang Xingba's lips slightly moving, mumbling as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, nothing came out.
"He's dead!" Yi Chen said indifferently.
Before his words had finished, a brilliant line of blood sprouted from the central axis of Wang Xingba's forehead and spread towards both ends. A glint of golden flame appeared on the pattern, resembling cracking ice on a red-netted porcelain.
