Within moments, the entrance was cleared. However, Lan Xia couldn't help but glance at the weirdly shaped artifact in Mark's hand. Her curiosity piqued.
Meanwhile, inside the tent, the air was thick with the scent of blood and raw energy. At the center sat a monstrous figure—a towering lion-headed beast clad in dark armor, his golden eyes burning with intelligence. A Saint Realm Commander.
He growled, sensing the intrusion. "Who dares…"
Mark didn't let him finish.
With a flicker of movement, Mark appeared behind him, his gun aimed at the commander's back. As he poured all of his ether energy reserves into the gun, the anti-matter energy bullet was once again fired. It plunged into the commander's back, severing his spine in an instant. The beastkin let out a strangled roar before collapsing to the ground.
Lan Xia stared at the lifeless corpse, her lips pressing into a thin line. "That was… a saint realm expert. How many powerful artifacts did you own, Shang Zhen?"
