"Che'er..."
On the way to Primordial Mountain, Meng Qianxun spoke hesitantly.
Everyone looked back.
They saw the Star-Picking Sect Cultivators, who just moments ago had been hell-bent on slaughtering them, now turning their blades on their former allies. The base of the mountain was still a warzone, but it no longer concerned them.
Chen Che shook his head, signaling that now was not the time to talk.
At this, Meng Qianxun said no more.
Accompanying them were Ping Miaohan and a host of other Cultivators.
Even the Golden Core Cultivators, despite their iron wills, felt a surreal sense of having survived a catastrophe. As Chen Che took in their expressions, his own heart was a tangled mess. The day's events had been nothing short of a roller coaster.
