The massacre was over. Only a spear-wielder stood alone in the rain as streams of blood flowed below him.

His handsome face was pale without a trace of pink.

“If he refuses to kneel, kill him.” The Meng ancestor was covered in a faint barrier; the rain couldn’t get within one meter of him.

“You’re not qualified to kill me…” An bronze light rushed out of his dantian and turned into an old boat.

He fell backward and landed on the deck. Its eighteen sails began to move and issued creaks.

The image of a dragon-horse appeared on the hull and destroyed the seal created by the Meng. In the next second, the boat was already on the horizon.

“He’s escaping!” The Meng ancestor activated the eighth-ranked spirit treasure and shot out a...