Mo Yunsheng was in Lin Fan's hands, silently and motionlessly.
Like an ant.
Like a dead dog.
Like trash.
No resistance.
No sound.
No expression.
Allowing his life to be held by Lin Fan.
Allowing the blood to flow from his left arm.
"Sheng'er!"
Mo Hai shouted, about to rush over.
However.
A single glance from Lin Fan.
Stopped him in his tracks.
"If you knew this would happen, why did you do it in the first place?"
Lin Fan's voice was cold, like the moonlight spreading, invading everyone's soul.
Those present could not help but feel a chilling cold.
Mo Hai could never have imagined today!
Not just Mo Hai.
Feng Qingshui, Mo Yunsheng, and nearly ten thousand soldiers.
No one would have thought such a one-sided situation would occur at this moment.
Moreover, the scales of victory tilted toward Lin Fan.
If it was before tonight.
If someone told them a Ninth Rank Saint Emperor could easily and effortlessly defeat a Half-step Lower Heavenly Venerate.
