"Xiu'er, there's no time to lose. Hurry and refine the Dragon Blood. When the day comes, you and I—"
SQUELCH!
Quan Xiu stepped forward. A jet-black longsword appeared in his palm, and he ran him straight through.
"Thank you so much, Father. It seems I didn't spare your life for nothing." The man's cold, indifferent voice whispered in his ear.
Quan Gang looked down to see an ethereal black mist spreading from his pierced chest. Wherever it passed, flesh and bone instantly dissolved into a pool of black water.
His bloodshot eyes bulged. He glared death at the cold, ruthless, black-robed young man before him and ground out through clenched teeth, "You! You're not Quan Xiu!"
"Father... No, I should address you properly. Uncle. Perhaps you've forgotten that another child has this face."
"You are—Quan Jin!" Quan Gang's face filled with panic. "No! How can you still be alive?!"
"You can ask my mother in the netherworld."
