The blood mist filled the air, carrying a pungent, metallic stench, like a狰狞 (zhengning, meaning ferocious or hideous) mark left by death. He

His body vanished without a trace, leaving only an empty ground, as if he had never existed in this world.

"Father!"

When Wang Muxue saw this scene, she felt her vision go black, her legs went weak, and she almost fainted.

She stumbled and staggered toward the spot where Wang Changkong had disappeared, each step feeling like walking on cotton, swaying precariously as if she might fall at any moment.

When she finally reached the open space, she could only kneel on the ground, frantically clawing at the ground with her hands, blood seeping from under her fingernails, but she could not grasp anything.

She burst into tears, her sobs heart-wrenching, as if she were trying to release all the grief in her heart.

Jackson Wang also let out a pitiful wail. He endured the excruciating pain and struggled to sit up from the ground.

His eyes were bloodshot, but he was seriously injured, and all the bones in his body felt like they were broken. He was unable to move at all and could only watch helplessly as everything happened.

But the short knife did not stop its deadly trajectory because of Wang Changkong's death.

It drew a graceful arc in the air, like a black ghost, and after a swift flight, it shot towards several disciples of Yun Zhilan, the Grand Elder of the Divine Doctor Valley.

Lu Chong and the others were still shocked by how easily Fang Han had deflected their master's deadly strike. But when they saw the short sword flying towards them, they turned pale with fright and fled in panic.