Ying Qingmo and the other two were stunned as they rushed over with their magic treasures.
Even as they arrived at top speed, Jing Jiu had already gotten there.
Lying on the ground, Dai Ying showed no sign of life at all, his face riddled with gashes created by a sharp object, completely covered in blood; it looked horrible.
The green rope broke into dozens of pieces, spreading around him. There was a small black hole beside his corpse of unknown depth.
That shadowy thing should have entered the ground through this black hole at a fast speed, and not even Jing Jiu's Piercing Discernment could catch up with it.
The cold wind was whistling, hurling the snowflakes onto their faces. It was extremely cold, and it was also deadly quiet.