"It seems like Garuda has fallen at your hands." A gentle voice came through, calm and steady, but Mu Chen tensed up under the gentle gaze because he could feel that there was a sense of danger surrounding him.
He looked up steadily at the figure that came out from nowhere. It was Mandela's archenemy, the rumored mount of the Heavenly Emperor in the Ancient Celestial Palace.
The elegant man had a perfect appearance. His facial features were as if carved in marble, chiseled to perfection. His eyes were as dark as the night sky, exuding a great charm. This elegant man was the Saint Demon King of this Saint Demon Palace, Lu Heng!
