On the chaotic and battered imperial palace stone slabs, the head as hard as fine iron created some small cracks.
Dead?
Gu Wen's Immortal Sword was not sheathed; instead, it continued to flash with dazzling sword light.
The mana inside him, turbulent like the sea, did not pause for a moment. Chi Yu Zi wanted to slightly restrain some of his mana, but he was stopped by Gu Wen.
His gaze did not leave the headless corpse for a second.
From where the head had been severed, no blood flowed out; instead, specks of spirit light emerged, and in the void, the spirit light condensed into a young Daoist.
Dressed in a cyan and white Daoist robe, with handsome features and a red string tied around his hand, Gu Wen mistook him for Zhao Feng at first glance.
The divine soul of the Lord Emperor.
Is he still not dead?
