Duan Heng, suspended in midair, had profound eyes, with a trace of reluctance fleetingly crossing the depths of his gaze.
Those from the same tribe could be regarded as the last proof of the Duan Family's existence.
However, these people, without exception, were less intelligent and had bodies with congenital deficiencies.
Perhaps he should help them to be freed?
The moment this thought emerged, Duan Heng's whole body trembled suddenly, and an incredulous expression appeared in his pupils.
He stood there bewildered, subconsciously reaching out with his palm.
Looking at the dark power in his palm, Duan Heng murmured to himself with a knowing look:
"It seems that the price of gaining this power is not just sacrificing Life, is it?"
He took a deep breath, the slight coolness calming him considerably.
Clenching his fist, strands of pitch-black power surged out from his fists, Duan Heng's eyes resolute.
