Bie Yanghong's words were naturally for Madam Mu and Black Robe to hear.
Madam Mu stood with her hands held behind her. She appeared to be overlooking a vast sea, her expression incredibly solemn. She did not reply to his question.
The tree by the edge of the cliff had already been annihilated by the fist intent, but the place where Black Robe stood still had the tree's shadow.
The mottled shadow fell on his body, concealing his appearance, but unable to drown out his voice.
A bizarre laughter came from out of the black robe and then rumbled in all directions in a thunderous and deafening boom.
Bie Yanghong's expression gradually became calm, but his mood had sunk.
He had come today to avenge his son, but now it seemed like he might die here.
With a clang, his sleeve rose, with an illusory sword formed of the purest star radiance in his hand. It slashed at the white cloud several thousand zhang away.