Ling Yuhan couldn't have imagined that the clansmen who were still smiling at him when they went out in the morning were now only stumps with blurred flesh and blood.

"Who the hell is it, who is so cruel! No matter who you are, this revenge must be avenged by yourself! You must pay it with blood!" Ling Yuhan shouted angrily in his heart.

The sunset on the horizon was bloody, the fire around the altar and the brilliant glow in the distance corresponded to each other, in Ling Yuhan's eyes, it seemed that the heavens and the earth were dyed with blood red, and the hot temperature around him made his eyes ache, and his eyes were blurry and could not see the front clearly, and he could not see the faces of the clansmen clearly.

Ling Yuhan slowly pulled out the long sword at his waist, the sword body was dark, and the blade of the sword was still shining with a faint blue cold light, which was obviously the same material as the previous dagger, and if you looked closely at the sword body, you will find that the sword body and the blade are densely carved with a variety of magic circles, each of which slowly rotates according to its own rules.

The man sitting high on the altar was dressed in white and had long black hair up to his waist.

In this blood-red environment, there is a sense of detachment from the world. However, what is completely out of contrast with his temperament is the position he is sitting on at this moment. The high place he is sitting on is actually made of the remains of corpses. Ling Yuhan restrained himself, trying not to carefully identify which clansmen these wrecks belonged to, but the distorted faces of these clansmen when they died lingered in his heart.

At this time, the man in white crossed his feet, holding a human head high in his hand, and a large amount of bright red blood flowed down the man's hands and his arms from the broken part of his neck.

The blood dripping directly from the fracture on his face also supported the man's fair skin and looked even more bewitching.The black-haired man raised his head and squinted at the head in his hand, the corners of his mouth were raised, his feet were shaking, and he hummed the unknown song happily.

Ling Yuhan walked to the bottom of the altar, the long sword in his hand shone with a faint blue light, and he didn't know when a cumbersome magic circle formed under his feet, the entire magic circle exuded a cold blue light, the long black windbreaker and short black hair on his body were violently pulled by the powerful power of the magic circle overflowing outward, and it felt like it was fluttering in the wind, and the whole person exuded a burst of murderous aura, like a killing god, staring at the white-clothed man on the altar.

At this time, the man in white on the altar seemed to have finally noticed Ling Yuhan, turned his head, and looked at him in surprise.

"Haha!" The man in white seemed to have suddenly discovered something to be happy about, jumped down from the pile of corpses, and the whole person seemed to have no weight, and fell straight in front of Ling Yuhan.

At this time, Ling Yuhan finally saw the face of the man in white. This is a delicate and handsome face, with long black hair up to the waist, handsome enough to make people surprised.

But at this time, Ling Yuhan was shocked and motionless, because this face was so familiar, wasn't this his own face? Why did this executioner who killed the whole clan look exactly like himself!