CRUNCH—
Qi Yun walked across the cratered ground, where even the surrounding trees had been razed, and came to stand before the mangled remains of Chu Tiankuang and his men.
With a mere thought, the dark Iron Sand that had yet to fully disperse flowed like a living creature, gathering into a thin but tough iron thread. It precisely plucked several blood-and-gore-stained Storage Pouches from the mangled wreckage of flesh and bone, levitating them before him.
"You…"
An extremely faint, gurgling gasp, mixed with the sound of frothing blood, came from the direction of Chu Tiankuang's nearly-smashed skull.
He was somehow still clinging to his last breath. Forcing his eyes open a crack, he stared fixedly at Qi Yun's figure, his gaze filled with endless pain, indignation, and venomous hatred.
BAM!
The next second.
An iron fist smashed down without hesitation, completely extinguishing the life of the Qi Refining Fourth Layer Cultivator.
"Hm? I thought I heard a fly buzzing."
