"Boom!"
At this moment, a loud explosion came from outside, followed by a chorus of wails.
With suspicion in his heart, he walked into the courtyard, his gaze immediately becoming sharp.
"Ah!"
More than thirty Ye Family guards flew in, smashing the floor and shattering the main hall door into several pieces.
Dozens lay on the ground howling in pain, while a circle of martial artists retreated quickly. Eight shadows slowly approached, each holding a freshly severed head.
Seeing the eight, Ye Zhenkun turned pale, his eyes filled with disbelief.
"Myanmar Eight Generals? How are you here?"
No one from the eight responded. One stepped forward and threw a punch.
"Roar!"
Fist power erupted like a cannon shot, the air burst apart, the martial artist guarding in front of Ye Zhenkun was scattered like leaves, blood spraying everywhere.
In an instant, dozens more were killed, leaving only Ye Zhenkun standing in the courtyard, trembling all over, both angry and fearful.
