Boundless and vast, the fading moonlight concealed behind clouds; profound darkness of the night deepened.
After a succession of tragic screams, the experts from Jiujiang were all annihilated.
In the silent grove, the only remaining sound was the approaching footsteps, as the gravely injured Songshan disciple Tong Ding faintly saw a shadow in black clothes, holding a sword, coming toward him.
Murderous intent struck directly at his face along with the rustling evening breeze!
There was a time when such fear was wrought by them upon others, to be experienced by others.
Not until this moment did he truly empathize with those who had died by his sword.
His pupils uncontrollably dilated, almost engulfing his entire field of vision, his breathing became rapid, as if a flame was fiercely burning inside his chest!
"You... who are you!"
"It's...", cold sweat beaded on his forehead, "It's the Hengshan Sect, isn't it!"
