The voice fell. The Eight Desolation Swords were like a ghost, and they transformed into countless swords. From above, or from below, or from left, or from right. For a while, the gods and ghosts were indistinguishable. Every sword ray, like a spirit snake surging out, followed in the stars and moon, quietly cutting the throats of countless people. Puff puff. With the fall of the sword, the neck is like a fountain, raging out. Seemingly incorporeal...

Chapter 57 of "The Emperor of the City Gods and Demons" He can't save you is hitting in his hand, please wait a moment,

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