It was the luster of materials—the precious materials every Martial Artist dreamed of.
Xu Wuyi withdrew his spear and stood tall, his expression as calm as if nothing had happened.
He turned and walked back toward the outpost.
Behind him, the area in front of the Rift was dead silent.
The technicians stood rooted to the spot, their eyes wide as they stared at the battlefield strewn with corpses, completely oblivious to the tools slipping from their hands.
They were not Martial Artists and had no concept of Grandmaster Level power. Yet the scene before them was so shocking that they didn't even know what expression to wear.
Over two thousand Star Beasts and four Great Commanders. Were they just gone like that? No, not gone—dead. Dead, yet lying there in neat rows, their corpses completely intact. What kind of concept was this?
The Martial Artists fared no better.
