The sound of an illusion shattering echoed.
When everyone turned back in shock, they only saw the fallen Sufferer. As the heart leapt for the last time, blood pooled from the wound at the back, gushing, dancing.
It fell on that broken smile, silently winding.
Under the backdrop of those strands of mournful red, that smile looked so serene, like a void.
Blowing from the cracks was the wind of Hell.
Time seemed to stand still.
In that moment too brief to think, faster even than astonishment, confusion, or fear, was the instinctive reaction cultivated through countless slaughters and struggles.
Before thinking, the sword was already drawn!
However, before instinct, Ji Jue had already raised his hand and pointed—
Towards the altar, issuing the command!
