The South Border was greeted by a heavy rain.
Within a hundred-mile radius, the sky seemed to hang like a giant waterfall, with torrential rain failing to extinguish the overwhelming miasma spreading across the mountains and wilderness.
Several brilliant white arcs of light shuttled through the rain curtain.
The leader was dressed in white, with an indifferent expression, his clothes fluttering in the wind, stained with patches of red.
It was blood.
But it wasn't his blood.
Qin Qianlian stood suspended in the air, hands behind his back, with a gloomy expression.
The brutal battle on Qingfu Mountain had ended.
Tonight's assassination, carefully orchestrated by the Three Great Sects... Besides Qingfu Mountain, other Zhanjiao Mountains were not spared. It was said that the battle in the neighboring Xuanzhui Mountain was even more bleak, with Green Owl personally arriving, and even the Yin God invited by Qin Baihuang failed to match, only managing to escape on the Treasure Ship.
