The valley, which just moments ago had been a scene of fierce battle, now fell into an eerie silence.
The air was still thick with the smell of blood, a scorched scent, and a lingering, bone-chilling cold.
Cao Feng clutched his chest, his face pale, but his gaze remained sharp.
He lifted his robe for a look.
The Black Gold Silk Armor was surprisingly undamaged.
The few Wind Blades that had struck him hurt, but they hadn't caused any real harm.
Cao Feng looked toward Chu Fan and nodded slightly. Everything was understood without a word.
He had long since witnessed Chu Fan's terrifying strength and demonic methods, so now his heart was filled more with the calm composure of a successful plan.
Li Qingxue and Cao Yan also sheathed their sabers.
Though their faces showed the fatigue of a fierce battle, they didn't look particularly surprised.
