"Wang Wu, Wang Zhige, I curse you, I curse you with the Ancient Blood Bear Race! You will not die a good death!"
"If you dare to return to Mang Mountain one day, you will surely show your true colors, and the Ancient Bear Daluo will not spare you. Your line should have been completely eradicated back then! Hahaha!"
This was Xiong Wangjie's final words.
Wang Wu remained expressionless as he watched his five Demon Pills shatter into fragments, as he watched his First Sequence of blood flow like a river. All bloodlines, all Divine Techniques, all the efforts of the past, at this moment, were like the collapse of a building, all gone. The terrifying curtain of blood dissipated from his Creation Immortal Body.
This scene appeared quite eerie and malevolent.
As part of the Demon Race, this kind of malevolence was almost innate.
