A Saint Heir, a Divine Son!
Even if they aren't as noble as the Divine Sons of Minlei Sect and True Yang Palace, they aren't far off.
For such figures to be killed by Chen Yuan, one can imagine how furious these two Immortal Divine Sects must be.
"Noisy!"
Chen Yuan spat out two words, lightly raising his palm.
"Boom!"
An invisible and formless palm force, carrying surging True Yuan, instantly struck out.
The middle-aged Heavenly Monarch who had just spoken, clad in a silver battle armor, radiating layers of treasure brilliance, still had half his face skewed directly by Chen Yuan, with countless teeth and blood spraying from his mouth, spinning like a top in the air dozens of times before falling several hundred yards away.
Whether it was Jiuxuan Sect or other sect cultivators, Chen Yuan did not actually hate them. This was just a matter of serving their own interests.
