Zhang Tian's body trembled slightly as he looked at the young Yan Immortal walking towards him. He felt an indescribable pressure.
Jian Wushuang held an Invisible Sword in his right hand and a three-meter-long golden spear in his left hand, which was full of intimidating power.
Even the Yan Immortals who were in the middle of the chaotic battle, intentionally or unintentionally, kept their distance from this god of killing, creating a path for him.
However, very quickly, Zhang Tian's eyes were filled with hatred and madness. "My son, Zhang Chen, died for no reason. As his father, can't I even take revenge?! Even if Prince Yan is the Young Emperor, I'll get justice for him today!"
"You won't be able to get justice. Take the remaining forces and retreat to recuperate," Jian Wushuang said. "Zhang Chen deserved his death."
"How dare you say that? Who in the world would dare to convict my son!" he roared in anger and struck his palm directly at him.
