"I want you dead!"
There was no time for hesitation or grief. Lu Qifeng understood that any slight pause at this moment would mean sending himself to death.
The storm abruptly rose, mercilessly scattering the blood mist formed by Luo Yan.
The rational Lu Qifeng knew that once a disciple was dead, they were gone, whether their body remained or turned to blood mist. Death was like a snuffed-out candle; the form of the remains couldn't change the fact of death.
Now, the most important thing was to kill the culprit responsible for this and avenge his disciple.
"Boom—"
The blast swept through, and the Wind-shocking Palm in Lu Qifeng's hands was utterly different from when it was in Luo Yan's hands. The howling wind concealed Lu Qifeng's figure, kicking up countless dust clouds as it barrelled forward.
