"Brother, save me!"
Little Xiao Fan struggled painfully in Luo Meilan's arms, extending his tender little hand towards Xiao Ye.
"No!"
Xiao Ye, with his hair disheveled, charged over like a madman, only to be sent flying by that terrifying power, brutally smashing into the ground with grave injuries. He could only watch helplessly as Xiao Yang, Luo Meilan, and Little Xiao Fan turned to ash before his eyes, their warm blood splattering on him.
At this moment, Xiao Ye's body violently trembled, veins bulging on his forehead, his heart as if pierced by ten thousand swords, tears of blood streaming from his eyes.
Gone!
All gone!
His clansmen, his relatives, his village, all gone!
And the mastermind behind it all was that youth with the strange totem on his face!
With just a casual palm strike, he had toppled the life he knew, casting him into an endless abyss.
"You must die, you must die!"
