The moment he saw Fei Rui die, Salon's mind buzzed, and a frigid chill shot through him as if he had been plunged into an ice cave. His limbs went cold.
The other Turin Warriors also turned deathly pale.
The Second-Class Priest, who had been so high and mighty, so incomparably powerful in their eyes, now lay on the ground as a cold corpse.
The scene felt so surreal it was like a dream.
A nightmare, to be precise.
However, the piercing caws that suddenly erupted from all around them were an unmistakable reminder that this was reality.
Deafening sound waves swept in from all directions.
Without Fei Rui's protection, the chariot could no longer withstand the sonic assault. Its defenses were instantly shredded, and many of the Turin Warriors exploded into clouds of blood mist.
Salon's face twisted as he resisted the corrosive sound waves, swinging his greatsword to cut down a few approaching Fog Crows. He turned to flee.
