The trembling of the Blood-colored Space felt like the apocalypse had come.
Old Ghost's murky eyes were now a deep red.
Inside them, there was no fear.
Only a madness akin to martyrdom.
The command of the Lingxiao Ancestor reverberated in his ears.
Fang Qingyu was the only way out for the Lingxiao Association!
And the last order Fang Qingyu gave him was to protect Yan Lin.
This was more important than his life, than the lives of all the Lingxiao Association members present.
"Protect Lord Yan! Retreat! Retreat to the entrance!"
Old Ghost's roar drowned out the lament of the space.
The hundred or so remaining Lingxiao Association elites instantly contracted, swords and blades outward.
Firmly guarding Yan Lin at the center.
On their faces, there was no sadness for the fallen comrades, only a stagnant indifference.
Upon entering here, their lives were no longer their own.
Surviving to get out would be a fluke; dying here was their homecoming.
Boom, crash.
