"What a pity for a Foundation Establishment completion soul," Wentian murmured softly.
As for feeling moved by his heroic spirit in calmly going to his death, there was none at all.
In the end, greed and arrogance had covered his eyes.
Wentian formed hand seals, and the formation light curtain rapidly dispersed. The six formation flags turned into streaks of light, shrank, and entered his storage pouch.
Jianyi Chonghui said, "Qi Refining disciples, clean up the battlefield. If there are any missed storage pouches, magic artifacts, and so on, hand them all in. Collect all souls and blood as well, then hand them over."
"Yes, Family Head."
Wentian swept his gaze over this battlefield. It was scorched earth.
If he did not interfere, perhaps no grass would grow here for several years or even ten years.
He swept his sleeve, and a ray of cyan light landed on the ground, clearing the traces of scorched earth and magic power fluctuations.
