Volume Three: The Storm at Xuanwu Gate Chapter 115: The Sky Is About to Fall!

After letting out a final roar, Li Shimin vomited blood, his body went limp, and he collapsed into unconsciousness.

The guards of the Prince’s mansion were thrown into a panic. They scrambled to lift the Prince of Qin and sent someone to report the news within the estate.

At that moment, Empress Zhangsun was having a meal with the children. Upon hearing the frantic report from the guard that the Prince of Qin had coughed up blood and was in critical condition, her face drained of color. Her hands trembled so violently that she could no longer hold her bowl and chopsticks, which clattered to the floor and shattered.

In her alarm, she pushed aside the maid who moved to support her, threw a quick order to the head eunuch, Wang De, to "take good care of the Heir Apparent and the Princess," and hurried off to see him.

Mingyu was also startled. This Li Shimin was truly...

"Because of your impatience, you nearly caused the total annihilation of the Central Continent Team. How could you turn such a simple task into this?" He Chuli dropped these icy words of reprimand and turned toward her own room, clearly disappointed by Zhang Cheng’s performance once again.

I ran to the northern wall of the underground palace, gritted my teeth, and pulled out the Xia Sword with all my might, then walked over to the two paper figures beneath the poem.

The man who appeared had a face like fine jade, sword-like brows, and starry eyes. A faint smile played on his lips, instantly winning one’s favor. Clad in a simple green robe, he possessed an air of refined grace.

He leaned against a large tree, his arms resting gently on his knees. Even while sitting on the ground, he appeared gentle, handsome, and clear-spirited.

Just then, from the swirling, brilliant purple-black radiance that had yet to dissipate, a dazzling Source Crystal suddenly shot forth, outshining the sun, moon, and stars.

This King Yu’s Sword Art was the Xia family’s closely guarded secret! Yet, given the relationship between Luo Chen and Xia Nishang, she could naturally recognize it. But why would someone from the Chen family know the King Yu’s Sword Art?

"Young Master, I don't know where he popped out from either! What was it—you there, when exactly did you appear?" Jin Hao stared at Bai Er, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember when this person had emerged.

The flow of profound energy within his body became more lively and unobstructed; unconsciously, his strength had increased by a small margin.

I didn't think too much about it and immediately said to the abbot, "Thank you. This matter is of great importance; I must return quickly to discuss it with my martial uncles. Thank you, Abbot."

"Yin Ce." He Qijian suddenly turned solemn. He crossed his legs, sat upright, and looked at me with a face of grave authority that sent a chill down my spine, making me feel as though some difficult trial was about to befall me.

"..." Miyamoto Ichigen stared fixedly at Lu Mingfei, his expression so grim it seemed as if it could drip ink.

Sure enough, Liu Qingqing was now being restrained by them, and the demonic energy leaking from her could no longer cause any harm to the outside world.

Ye Xiao’s gaze passed through the ancient lamp and projected into that world, where he saw Lin Xiaoxue still in seclusion.

But there were simply too many people on the other side. Even if Lu Mingfei worked the bolt of his rifle until it sparked, it would be impossible to take them all down. Sweat, mixed with dirt, streamed down his face and dripped onto the ground; his eyes were aching terribly from prolonged aiming.

Pétain leaned against the car window, watching the scene on the road. It was extremely congested and chaotic, filled with soldiers heading to reinforce Verdun and others retreating from it.

Jiang Muyan paused, intending to leave, but the door opened. Ji Yanchen sat in his wheelchair to let her in. Like Jiang Muyan, his hair was wet, though his was dripping even more heavily. He wore no shoes, and his expression was indignant, as if someone had offended him.

Zhang Zizai spoke again, and two black-robed attendants lifted the Heavenly Child out of the box. He was a silver-haired youth of fifteen or sixteen; his skin, beneath the bloodstains, was as white as snow, and his eyes were a rare, fiery red.

It wasn't until the Battle of Taiyuan that Wang Bing set up stone catapults within the city walls. He kept them hidden, and only after confirming the positions of the Jin army's catapults did he use his own to counter them, destroying the enemy's artillery.

Possessing perfect features, extraordinary abilities, and a sincere faith, he never acted in contradiction to his beliefs.

Indeed, this reasoning was impossible to refute. Lu Mingfei and his party had no choice but to comply. They walked into the mire and lined up; the soft, squelching sensation beneath their feet filled them with disgust.