The people outside remained silent as a woman stepped out from behind them. She wore a long, emerald green robe, and was quite beautiful. Her skin was so delicate it seemed a breeze could break it. This was none other than Dongluo Ling. Her brow was furrowed as she glared into Meng Hao’s room.
“Since you know who I am, then you’d better let my man go immediately. Then we can discuss some matters.” Her voice was pleasant, but filled with iciness. Her Cultivation base was beyond ordinary; it appeared to be at the early Core Formation stage.
Meng Hao grinned. He might have the appearance of a scholar, but looking at him now, he possessed a certain fierceness. He suddenly clenched his right hand. Loud cracking sounds could be heard; the man’s body twitched as his neck was crushed into pieces. After he was thoroughly dead, Meng Hao stood up and turned into a blur as he rushed toward the door.
Dongluo Ling laughed mockingly. She stood her ground, not moving at all. As she glanced down at the body of the dead man, the eight men around her suddenly moved forward to obstruct Meng Hao’s way. Two of them were white-haired old men. Their gazes were like lightning, their stature tall; shockingly, they even had totem tattoos on their arms. However, they didn’t look like Western Desert Cultivators. They had extraordinary Cultivation bases at the mid Core Formation stage. Their bodies flashed as they moved forward to defend Dongluo Ling.
They were fast, but Meng Hao was even faster. In the blink of an eye, he was out the door. He flicked his sleeve, and a gale force wind suddenly exploded out. It screamed out in all directions, causing the bodies of the eight Cultivators to shake as they spit up blood. They all retreated, looks of astonishment on their faces.