Smoke and dust dispersed, revealing two shadows.

Ye Dun stood in the void, in his body, still filled with hegemonic fighters, looking far, looking at that slightly confused figure.

At this time, the white-haired youth was stained with mottled blood, his white hair was scattered and fluttered with the wind. He had no sense of being smart just now. His eyes were fixed on Ye Dun. He could hardly imagine what had happened. He, the youngest Ling Feng in the Temple of Heaven, was dying in the hands of the human teenagers in front of him.

It's so humiliating!

But when he was angry, the white-haired youth did not start...