"So what? Do you still have the power to move now?" Trent Marsh lay on the ground, looking at the martial artists around him, his face full of disdain. "With these useless fools?"
He placed his hands behind his head and gazed at the sky.
The martial monks, following the Prophet’s instruction, surrounded him, ready to capture him.
Trent Marsh whistled.
Boom!
The movents of the martial monks halted, and then they turned to ashes.
"You guys, you’re still too young. Did you really think I didn’t leave a thod to destroy you when I created you?" Trent Marsh lanted, "You’re not human, you don’t understand the complexity of human hearts. Destroying you isn’t about killing the donkey when it’s done its job, but rather a result of power struggles. If I truly wanted to destroy you, why would I trap you in the divine realm to preserve you?"
He turned his head to look at the Prophet: "You were able to leave, did you really think it was your group of failures’ planning? The real decision-makers are only Silvio Reed and . Without one of us helping, could you co out? The most pitiful thing for puppets is being controlled without even realizing it."
After saying this, Trent Marsh closed his eyes.
His face began to turn yellow.
Then, his body started to turn yellow.
"Damn it!" The Prophet trembled all over, yet he had no strength at all.
Not being dead was already fortunate.
Now, without the martial monks, the Prophet had no idea what to do.
Moreover, Trent Marsh’s transformation was completely beyond his expectations.
A few minutes later.
Trent Marsh was entirely golden, becoming a statue.
"An indestructible golden form?"
Just then, a strange voice ca.
"Who!"
The Prophet turned around, looking with hollow eyes at the person coming from behind. "Yellow Emperor?"
He said, surprised.
"How co you’re here!"
Mont is nearly ten thousand kiloters from here.
Even if he knew as soon as Trent Marsh arrived, Ilia Danvers couldn’t possibly be here this fast.
"You forgot, after the Nine Spirits Temple collapsed, this place beca my territory. Causing trouble in my territory, can’t I co to take a look?" Ilia Danvers’s mouth twitched constantly, with Wandering Dragon flickering in his eyes.
His expression was uncertain, and his hands occasionally trembled.
His whole state was very strange.
"I heard you captured Trent Marsh; this is good news." Ilia Danvers took a few steps, walked to the Prophet, raised an eyebrow, and mocked openly, "Really... useless."
While speaking, his mouth kept twitching wildly, and his body trembled uncontrollably.
"Dusty Platform is also a place I used to be!" The Prophet extended his hand, making a gesture.
Soon.
Martial monks ran over from all directions.
There were nearly a hundred of them.
"To keep Trent Marsh, you’ve spared no expense." Ilia Danvers twitched his mouth, smiled blankly, "But unfortunately, you’ve been severely injured by Julius Reed, dissected by Shadow Kims, and now dealt a fatal blow by Trent Marsh. What do you fight with? With them?"
Ilia Danvers pointed at the martial monks, shook his head, and said, "These things might have been trouble for before, but now..."
He suddenly opened his mouth!
"Roar!"
A dragon’s roar sounded!
Boom!
The martial monks exploded one by one!
Their bodies shattered.
Without their bodies, they ceased to exist.
The covering on the Prophet’s head was also directly shattered.
"With a true dragon present, do you still intend to confront ?" Ilia Danvers stretched out his hand, triumphantly spreading his five fingers.
He didn’t even look directly at the Prophet, commanding in an lofty tone, "Submit to . If you’re unwilling, consider it cooperation. But this is your only chance, rember, if you lose this opportunity, you will lose everything."
"Submit? Impossible!"
The headless body of the Prophet stood there, his clothes already shredded.
Yet, out of nowhere, seven lights appeared.
Those were seven hearts!
The Heart of Seven Apertures!
In an instant!
A great light shone.
The Prophet vanished.
As if he had never been there.
"Hmm?"
Ilia Danvers squinted, scanning all around.
There was no sign at all.
"King, we’ve arrived."
At this mont, a group of Mont guards ran over to Ilia Danvers.
"Search the mountain, and anwhile, take this golden statue back to our temple in Mont. I want to see whether these worthless temples are powerful or Trent Marsh is!"
Ilia Danvers’s mouth twitched, his body trembled, completely unlike a normal person.
"But in case..." the Guard Commander worriedly said, "isn’t it too risky to bring Trent Marsh back to our headquarters, in case..."
"No risk. Trent Marsh reaching this step ans there’s truly no way left." Ilia Danvers raised his hand, signaling the Guard Commander not to speak further. "Do as I say. Be ticulous in the mountain search."
"Understood!"
The Guard Commander led his n, quickly dispersing.
"Karen, where shall we go tonight?" Ilia Danvers extended his hand, pulling Karen into his embrace, "I exerted much effort bringing you out of Gonzalez City; you know how much you an to ."
"Haha, don’t talk like that, Boss Ilia. I’m an old fan of indulgence; speaking of which, we both have matching tastes." Karen rubbed his hands, "That damn Terry Moore watches every day; it wasn’t easy to sneak away. But let’s be clear, if you really clash with Julius Reed, I’ll have to support Julius Reed. No offense."
"Bullshit. If it really cos to a fight, it’s tricky for , even with Grace River there. But if it must happen, then so be it, we’ll still have a drink afterward." Ilia Danvers nudged Karen, "Out for drinks? I heard a new grand tavern just popped up recently, catering specifically to elite martial artists, have you heard?"
"Gills Alliance? I feel like the na is a jab at Julius Reed." Karen thought for a mont and said.
"Correct! Haha, heard the girls there are amazing; once we’re done here, let’s check it out." Ilia Danvers said, laughing as he left.
Gonzalez City.
Julius Reed stood in front of the office.
"The painting, tell , is the dead person Trent Marsh?" Julius Reed recalled the last painting, feeling sothing was off.
If Trent Marsh died this easily, would he still be Trent Marsh?
Either the painting deceived him, or the headless one wasn’t Trent Marsh.
The painting didn’t react.
Julius Reed punched the painting, muttering under his breath, "In my hands, can’t you face reality?"
"I want a cup of green tea." The painting showed these words.
"You like that too?" Julius Reed picked up his teacup, splashing the tea onto the canvas.
The tea quickly disappeared, as if it had never been there.
The painting began to change.
It depicted a tavern.
Very ancient, like architecture from centuries ago.
No modern concrete, no glass.
The plaque had three characters.
Gills Alliance.
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