Ding Ling stepped forward, looking at Zhang Jiao, and seeing his face mixed with disbelief, anger, and a curse-like expression, he realized that getting the truth through questioning might be difficult.
He abandoned the idea of asking, and directly pointed a finger.
Poof! Poof!
Two sword lights flashed by.
In the next instant.
Two hollow pits appeared on Zhang Jiao and Zhang Bao's foreheads.
"They died just like that?!"
Scenes from the past flashed in Zhang Jiao and Zhang Bao's minds, finally freezing on two figures.
One was ethereal and god-like, tinged with eeriness and darkness.
The other was grand and majestic, with a hint of dominance and unrivaled strength.
One of the faces was that of an elderly person with white hair and a youthful complexion;
The other was none other than Ding Ling.
"Both of them are strong; how does this young man differ completely from the other one?!"
