After tidying up the belongings in the Great Golden Mountain Temple, Lu Qian left behind the several thousand women who had been harmed.
He hesitated for a moment, sighed, then flicked his sleeve.
Those thousands of women — faces blank and numb, yet with a flicker of terror and despair deep in their eyes — were all drawn into the Little Vajra Sumeru Mountain in his palm.
Jin Keng was dead, killed while someone else was wearing his face.
Lu Qian had fled.
If the people of the Baoguang Pavilion and the Canghai Tower couldn't find the “murderer,” they would inevitably take revenge on these women as the supposed culprits.
Though the women were the real victims, who among the lofty powers would bother to hear reason for such pitiable things?
He also took the tens of thousands of elite garrison troops into the Little Vajra Sumeru Mountain.
Lu Qian looked over at the local officials who had fainted to the ground, hesitated a moment, muttered “all beings are equal,” and simply forced them in as well.
They were all local officials of the Xuan Yan Immortal Dynasty, elites born of the great families of the Xuan Yan Court.