Liu Qingcheng had been waiting in the Golden Phoenix Pavilion for a long time.
She had been waiting from dawn until dusk, from when the iron hooves led by King Jingnan marched through the streets of Zangfeng State, until the Saint's Finger descended from the sky once more.
In her anxiety, the ground shook, and the cultivators of the Mountain and Sea Alliance retreated into the Golden Phoenix Pavilion, even taking in some refugees among the cultivators.
In the darkness, the atmosphere was overwhelmingly oppressive and heavy.
She heard unfamiliar cultivators sighing softly, resigned to despair, fearing that none of them could escape this calamity today, and Zangfeng State would become a ghost state today.
Indeed, who could possibly save these more than five million people from the hands of a saint?
Not even gods could save them!
Liu Qingcheng leaned against the window in a daze, thinking about how the world of the Demon Race and cultivators was like this.
