Yan Beichong's corpse was tossed into the endless time-space turbulence, decomposed into countless basic particles, disappearing from the world without even causing a ripple.
Zhou Hong stood opposite Lu Yu, his palm stained with the dense golden glow of sacred blood, an expression of delight and intoxication on his face.
Lu Yu looked at him, his face calm.
The golden light on Zhou Hong's face flickered and vanished, the golden glow in his palm disappeared, and he looked at Lu Yu with a flushed face, taking a long time to speak: "Thank you."
Lu Yu nodded, remained silent, and watched as the fragments of earth beneath his feet were about to disappear. He hurriedly used the drifting debris around him to head upstream of the time stream.
Zhou Hong followed closely behind, leaving this piece of ground that could collapse and disappear at any moment.
