"Puff!"
The words fell.
Qin Chen's blade fell with them.
Fang Hanchuan's head was cleanly chopped off by Qin Chen, rolling to the ground.
"Boom."
Then his body, having lost all strength, crashed heavily to the ground. From the severed neck, fresh blood flowed out nonstop, the scene incomparably gory.
If living in this world is only for the sake of living, then that would be far too dull.
Living is important, of course.
But many things are more important than just being alive.
If Fang Hanchuan doesn't die,
how can the dead souls from that battle at the Heavenly Blade Saint Sect rest in peace?
"Qin Chen! You've got some nerve!"
A furious roar came, accompanied by countless tearing wind sounds shrieking across heaven and earth. The speaker was an old man with a long white beard, anger between his brows.
Qin Chen swept a glance over him and the figures whistling in from all around, the corners of his mouth slowly curving upward.
"Boom!"
