A Jiuzhou Ancestral God vanished before his eyes, bearing infinite regret and loneliness... Heading back to his homeland, to Jiuzhou, was a wish fated to remain unfulfilled.
"Let the enemy's blood dye the longbow, and accompany you in burial, I will take you back to Jiuzhou..." Xiao Chen said calmly. The Ancestral God was completely annihilated, leaving not even bones behind— a sorrowful and mournful sight, the Jiuzhou Buried Bow was the last consolation.
Grasping the longbow, Xiao Chen's hands tensed with veins bulging, tightly holding nine arrow feathers! He wished he could find his enemies immediately and shoot these nine arrows.
"Hurry up, this place is not safe," the old man urged and reminded.
Xiao Chen hadn't lost his senses and naturally understood the situation. Those Heretical Ancestral Gods, especially the White-haired Ancestral God and that inscrutable mysterious figure, were formidable and unpredictable.
