In Medicine King House.
The place was bustling with people.
All of them were disciples dressed in Martial Alliance t-shirts.
At that moment, each of their eyes was bloodshot, hands clenched into fists.
In the vast courtyard, about a dozen martial masters lay there, covered in blood.
Leading them was none other than Luo Shaoyong, the younger head of the Martial Alliance.
He lay there, barely breathing.
And next to him, Luo Jiuying sat in a chair, his face as pale as death.
He couldn't stop coughing, clearly having sustained serious internal injuries.
Watching the disciples and grandchildren lying in front of him, his fists were tightly clenched.
His nails dug into his flesh, but he didn't seem to feel it.
"Mr. Luo, don't worry, Lin Fan will be here soon, everything will get better. Maybe you should drink some tea first."
Li Qiqi came over carrying a teacup.
But Luo Jiuying didn't pay her any attention.
After all, today the Martial Alliance had suffered heavy losses.
