His body was riddled with wounds, yet a mysterious power forcibly sustained his life, making death unattainable.
"Ba—bastards—!" Wang Ce involuntarily cursed, filled with hatred toward the All Gods and those of the Longevity Association.
He hated being treated as a pawn to be manipulated at will, hated those so-called gods who pushed him to the brink of despair for their selfish desires. Now, his mind was constantly flashing with memories of his short life, the past that was coerced, the deeds beyond his control, all turning into tears of regret, then evaporating and burning away.
He could only continuously pray in his heart for death to come quickly and end this extreme torment.
At this time, the First Divine Envoy of the Great Wei, Mo Yuan, was frantically fleeing in the Cloud Sky, illuminated like daylight by the Holy Thunder Tribulation Fire.
