After Bai Xiaofan and his companions left, a rift appeared on the ground where they had previously battled. Some blood-red tentacles dragged Li Liang's dead body down.
Then the rift closed once more, as if nothing had happened!
But just as the rift sealed shut, three figures came rushing from afar at great speed.
"Has the battle already ended?"
Among the three, a middle-aged man in white, with hands clasped behind him, frowned and spoke.
"The aura of the battle was strong just now; I wonder who it was? Surely it wouldn't be the disciples of us three!"
Listening to the man in white, the old man in the middle, dressed in blue robes, also spoke in a deep voice.
"There are three auras, each heading in different directions. One aura seems to have several people with it. What should we do?"
The last one, an old man in a black robe with a headful of silver hair and triangular eyes, glared as he spoke.
