Soon, the two of them entered the outskirts of the marketplace.
The roads were deserted.
Every house had its doors tightly closed.
Many buildings had been destroyed in the chaos of last night.
The air was thick with the smell of blood, and corpses were strewn across the road, their bodies stripped clean, leaving only the clothes on their backs.
Occasionally, some mortal women and children sat blankly at the entrance of their ruined homes, eyes vacant.
Even their wailing was desperately suppressed, for fear of attracting more trouble.
In just one night.
The outskirts of the marketplace had changed completely.
To survive in such circumstances, one had to be either very powerful or so weak that there was nothing worth looting…
Zhou Changwang and Qian Xiaoyue's faces were solemn.
Particularly when they saw some of the corpses, which still carried traces of powerful spiritual energy and had wounds clearly inflicted by magical artifacts.
