"Very well. It seems the Xuan Mang Sect has thought things through."
Han Tong bowed slightly. But his heart was filled with cold laughter. To think these two men intended to restrict him—it was simply wishful thinking.
"Let's go!"
He gestured to the Blood Refining Sect disciples, and the group entered the Blood Refining Sect's mountain gate.
"Hmph! Insignificant whelps, daring to defy our sect."
After Han Tong had walked further away, the Xuan Mang Sect expert also sneered, "If this weren't the Blood Refining Sect's territory, I would have dismembered you long ago."
His eyes glinted with a cold light, and then the Xuan Mang Sect expert vanished.
「」
Meanwhile, Ling Chen and his group had been led by Han Tong into the dungeon. The dungeon was dark and damp, its moldy smell mingling with the stench of blood.
