In just a dozen or so breaths of time, three individuals were already standing next to this Great Mang female cultivator’s corpse.

One was a forty something middle-aged, gloomy expressioned, green gowned man. The wide sleeves of his gown were completely made from metal threads. The purple petal-like decorative streaks didn’t seem like decorative motifs, but rather like streaks of runes, flickering with a type of luster similar to ceramic and metal.

Of the other two, one was a young Great Mang officer dressed in dark red chain mail armor, on his back were two chain spears. His face’s lines were sharp, as if sculpted by a blade, full of killing intent.

The other was a tall man who had a snow-white complexion, his appearance extremely feminine. In addition to the red thick robes he wore, he also wore a circular and sharp tall hat, his appearance quite similar to a priest who didn’t see much sunlight all year round.

With just a glance at this Great Mang female cultivator’s broken arm and crushed throat, this snow-white faced, priest-like man said with an ice-cold voice, “A cultivator who is at...

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