The iron-tower blood elementalist stood like a statue in astonishment. The point of the snow-white Cirrus was stuck against his chest. Shi Xueman was still in position to rush forward, but remained motionless.
The sounds of fighting were deafening in Central Pine City, but here at the warehouse gate, there was only dead silence.
Liao Nan and the triangle-eyed blood elementalist’s expressions were frozen. Their eyes were filled with shock and fear.
The iron-tower blood elementalist looked down with difficulty, like rusty machine. Even such a simple action required almost all his effort. His eyes were vacant with astonishment and incredulity.
The snow-white Cirrus was surrounded by white fog. The figure at the other end of the spear was blurred in his vision.
The tip of the spear, made of Firmament Iron, was crystal clear, like a sapphire. Its blade which was as thin as a cicada's wing reflected his pale face.
