Inside the grand hall.
The wailing never ceased!
Some cultivators lay dead in pools of blood; some were injured and could not rise again; some were still fighting desperately.
Fang Tianyu pulled the longsword that had penetrated the thing beneath him out, letting out a muffled groan. He looked at the fresh blood flowing from the stump of his left hand, and his lower body was also bleeding profusely.
He gritted his teeth, tore some fabric from his clothing, and hastily bandaged the stump. Seeing that only a small half of the incense left in the censer was left, he charged like a mad bull toward the least crowded passage.
Despite this.
There were still people fighting at the entrance to this passage, and when they felt someone rushing over, their movements paused slightly, and their gazes fixed on Fang Tianyu.
Witnessing this, Fang Tianyu—with eyes a bloody red—bellowed, "Who dares to block me? I swear Cold Extreme Palace will exterminate your entire clan!"
Upon hearing this.
