The End of the Clear River Pavilion

As they fought the numbers of Wu Long's enemies dropped faster the fewer were remaining.

As their fighting strength dramatically dropped, and the sect ancestor who lost his leg was subsequently wrapped in Spiritual Qi chains and talismans, the rest of the weaker fighters were wiped out. Eventually, the only ones left were the sect master and the man in the now bloody gray robes who stood not far from Wu Long.

"Haa...haa...haa...you will not survive this...haa~"

The man in gray said while heavily breathing, sweat covering him along with his blood.

"Haa...haa...young one...haa...you are strong, but believe me, going against those people is not something we, mere mortals, can do!"