The silhouette of Blade Madman disappeared in the gradually intensifying snowstorm.
The martial artists from major sects across the seventeen counties in the Northwest, along with the always prideful Rangers, uncharacteristically remained silent, watching the swordsman who turned the tides leave, unable to regain their composure for a long time.
His injuries were the most severe, yet he stood upright with his back straight, the most defiant of them all.
The figure 'Luan' hidden among the crowd was entirely inconspicuous.
Beside him, 'Ying' was tending to his wounds. The latter had suffered some injuries during a battle with the hefty and skinny elders when his own Vigorous Qi backfired.
Luan withdrew his gaze from the snowstorm and raised his hand to pinch his forehead.
He felt increasingly troubled and headache-ridden.
