In Zhongtong Ancient Town, on a long, straight street before the Domain Sect, Saintly Might blotted out the sky.
Five Little Saints descended, their expressions impassive.
They moved as if they bore the Holy Dao itself, their boundless Saintly Might crushing the very heavens above.
To the onlookers, they felt as insignificant as dust, completely unable to face the five Saints directly.
In the center of it all, only Jiang Jichen stood firm. His expression turned grim as his gaze locked onto the five Saints before him.
He had already moved Hua Xiaoling and Yee Youmeng behind him, shielding them from the direct pressure of the Saintly Might.
'I can't believe it,' Jiang Jichen thought. 'To kill me, they've actually sent Patriarchs—beings of the Saint Realm.'
"Brat, if Elder Yao hadn't protected you that day, you would've already been reduced to dust!"
"But it makes no difference. You got to live for another year or so, but the outcome will be exactly the same."
