Jiang Xuelan stood at the highest point of the city wall, and the ice blue divine light flowed in the palm of his hand.
Behind her, there were one hundred and thirty-seven disciples of the Ice Temple, and each of them had flames burning in their eyes.
They had just awakened their bloodline, and their cultivation was still unstable, but none of them flinched.
Chu Tianxing stood at the door of the council hall, looking at the five Upper Realm Protoss cultivators in the distance, a hint of cold light flashing in his eyes.
He was holding a long sword in his hand, and a dazzling silver light flowed from the sword.
Behind him were the dozens of human race cultivators who had escaped from the sixteenth heavens, each of whom had a cultivation level above the fifth rank of the true immortal realm.
Their injuries have not healed yet, and they are still covered in bandages, but their eyes are bright.
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