Chapter 1004: The God-King's Clash with the Purple-Robed Fiend

The night was ink-black, the wind knife-cold. Out of the haunted vastness of the Hundred-Thousand Mountains, Frank Yale staggered out, reeling. He was in bad shape. One arm had been raked open to the bone, his chest split wide with golden bones glinting beneath. His body was crisscrossed with wounds, each buzzing with killing intent-he was a ruin from head to toe. Pfft! Blood sprayed. He dropped with a thud, half-kneeling in the dirt. Beside him, seven royal scions flopped to the ground, panting...