Called the King of Fists, the unparalleled master who forged countless legends with his two fists remained dignified even until the end.
“…Amitabha.”
Bulzon carefully caught the body of Yaryulhwang, which flew through the air like nothing but emptiness.
The fierce face, as if he could still open his eyes at any moment and command the Blood Sect disciples, was still worthy of a leader.
Though his voice would never be heard again...
“Master!”
Leader of the Annihilation Division, Ryu Seol, was the first to rush over.
Behind him came the leaders of the Martial Alliance’s five divisions and its members, gazing at Yaryulhwang’s body with disbelief.
Anger, despair, fear—vortexes of emotions swirled within them.
Some shed tears, others swore to avenge their sworn enemy.
After handing over the leader’s body to the Martial Alliance, Bulzon turned his gaze back to the front.
He saw a man with red hair and red eyes, like fresh blood.
Darkness as deep as an abyss and blood-stained vitality tangled chaotically around him as his guard.
The Blood Demon of this era traced a blood-colored line with his lips.
“Planning to kill me?”
The man who blocked his path also carried a rare and mysterious aura known in the world of mortals.