On Lin Dongcheng's right palm, True Yuan roiled. A radiant sword beam shot through the air, stabbing toward Chen Zheng! WHOOSH! The sword beam was incredibly fast, reaching him in the blink of an eye.
"Die!" Lin Dongcheng sneered, feeling utterly ecstatic. This attack will kill him for sure. Chen Zheng is bound to die!
But in the next second, the malevolent smile on his face vanished, replaced by sheer disbelief.
"Who did you just call a lapdog?"
Just then, Chen Zheng's calm, unbothered voice sounded out.
What? Lin Dongcheng froze, completely baffled. His eyelids began to twitch violently.
SPLAT!
The next moment, he watched with wide eyes as the terrifying sword beam pierced through his own throat, penetrating his entire head.
Lin Dongcheng was dead, unable to rest in peace. He hadn't seen how Chen Zheng had accomplished it. He only perceived a blur before a hole was punched through his neck.
"Lin Dongcheng!"
"Uncle Lin!"
