The headless remains of the Blood Python Dharma Image still tumbled through the air, but it was just instinctive, and its dissipation was inevitable.
Wei Yuan put away the withered branch and casually stuck it in the ground, though not in the most fertile part of the original mound of soil.
The young masters and mistresses finally received their orders, withdrew their Daoist Skills, and each looked pale with exhaustion, almost gasping for air with tongues extended. Fortunately, although their Daoist Skills were not refined, their prolonged and abundant efforts had inflicted some damage.
The battlefield was everywhere drenched in dark green blood, which had initially fertilized the soil, but now turned it into scorched earth after being drenched with the blood of the Witch Clan.
