Chapter 4510 — Kill!
The Blossom Guardian · Page 2 of 2
That was no surprise. He had been less than a fathom from Wei Zhao; caught in the blast at such close range, that a body reasonably intact should remain at all was a miracle of no small order. Survival was out of the question—unless he had been an expert of the Mystic Ascension Stage, perhaps.
However mighty Cheng Haonan was, however often he struck above his realm, his body was still fundamentally that of a Golden Core cultivator, and its defenses were what they were. Being blasted to death was nothing strange.
Cheng Haonan's death had been expected by all; what truly stunned them was where he now was—held aloft in one hand by a single man, none other than the ashen-faced Old Sect of the Western Mountains.
The whole Moleng Plaza lay in wreckage, yet the ground beneath the Old Sect's feet alone was left wholly unscathed—a Mountain-Opening Stage heretic titan was, after all, no ordinary being. Even so, that could not change one awkward fact: the Old Sect had clearly acted just now, and yet had failed to save Cheng Haonan.
The instant Wei Zhao spread his palm and released the top-grade bomb, the Old Sect knew things had gone badly. He knew that at this rate Cheng Haonan was doomed—and this was the disciple he had just taken in. To let a disciple die before his very eyes—would the Old Sect of the Western Mountains not be laughed to death for it?
So in that instant, the Old Sect chose to act and save the man. Alas, he had still been too late. Cheng Haonan had indeed been snatched back—only as a battered, broken corpse.
"How dare you, you little wretch!" The Old Sect's face was livid, his hoarse, shrill voice grating against every eardrum in the hall, driving the crowd to bow their heads and dare not meet his eye.
Even the dullest among them understood: this Mountain-Opening Stage heretic titan had swallowed a silent loss at Wei Zhao's hands and was now in the throes of humiliated rage. Should anyone show the slightest disrespect, the Old Sect might well slaughter everyone present.
He might speak of cultivating his mind and nature, but a heretic cultivator was a heretic cultivator—without a grand bloodbath now and then, how could he do justice to the title of heretic titan?
Qi Wenmo and the others watched this scene with secret exultation. They might not know the particulars, but one thing at least was certain: Wei Zhao seemed to have gotten away unscathed.
To escape from under the nose of a Mountain-Opening Stage heretic titan—never mind a Golden Core expert, even a Nascent Soul master would not dare imagine such a thing, and yet Wei Zhao had gone and done it. The crowd could only sigh: truly, wherever he went, miracles were everywhere.
At this moment every gaze in the hall stole toward the Old Sect of the Western Mountains. They were all wondering how this Mountain-Opening Stage heretic titan would react—would he fly into a humiliated rage outright, or put on the airs of a lofty master?
But what none of them expected was that no sooner had their eyes fixed on him than the Old Sect's figure vanished from where he stood without the slightest warning, never to be seen again. Had it not been for the corpse of Cheng Haonan, riddled with holes, left lying on the ground, the crowd would have thought the man had never been there at all.
Meanwhile, fifty li away, Wei Zhao—ignoring the churning injuries within his body—was doing his utmost to employ the Super Butterfly Microstep, speeding away from Moleng City. (To be continued.)