"You all must die!"
Xiao Yi's voice came from outside the door, instantly plunging the temperature within the hall by dozens of degrees.
One by one, the powerhouses rose to their feet.
Especially the Sword Rain King, his eyes narrowed into slits, with a chilling cold light flickering within, staring intently at the entrance.
Backlit by the sunlight.
The crowd couldn't make out the newcomer's face at first glance.
Tap tap tap!
The crisp sound of footsteps approached slowly, and as Xiao Yi entered the hall, the footsteps seemed like a soul-hooking, life-stealing enchantment continuously knocking against their hearts. It was as if an invisible hand clutched their throats, stopping them from making any sound, their dilated pupils and trembling legs betraying their immense fear and dread to the world.
Gulp!
Zhao Qian Sun swallowed hard, his voice quivering, "Xiao, Xiao, Xiao Zhenguo..."
During the founding ceremony of the Daqian Dynasty.
