On the right was a man with a completely opposite build—thin and thin, upright but lacking any fierce spirit.
His face was sinister and stern, his skin as pale as if never seen in the light of day, completely bloodless. At a glance, he felt a bone-chilling chill, making him wary.
He lightly held an ancient, rustic duster in his hand. The whisk’s white hair was fine and tough, unmoved by the howling cold wind of the wasteland, unmoving and unshaken—no ordinary object.
This is an ancient treasure left behind in Trap Tianfu, specialized in formation, trapping enemies, and sealing. Locking the soul, assisting in killing, its power unfathomable.
Strange, flowing silver light swirled around him, his aura cold and sinister—far from the orthodox Holy Light power of the Divine Clan, but the phantom killing power he had cultivated for a hundred years.
Specialized in disturbing the soul, bewildering the mind, and severing spiritual consciousness, capable of silently dissolving the enemy’s mind, killing without bloodshed, utterly ruthless and vicious.
This man was the Divine Clan’s trump card—the Strategist General.
Unlock the full chapter with a membership! If you’re a member, log in using the header menu or the (☰) mobile menu.